How's This for a Wet Dream?
by Baphy1428
Summary: Sadomasochistic erotica/NOT a portrayal of BDSM relationships/NOT a romance. A young woman with a fetish for pain meets a demon with a desire to kill everyone she knows...including her... TRIGGER WARNING:: Physical/Emotional Abuse, Rape, Depression, Suicidal Behaviour, Adolescent Homicidal Behavior
1. Chapter 1: Unnatural Desires

Staring up at the ceiling as Iay in bed, I wondered if the stories were true. Lately there had been a lot of...well, weird things going on. Other students had been acting strange. Quite a few of them were complaining about vivid nightmares, all of which seemed to be about the same thing...the same person. A dirtily dressed man with horrible burns and a hand made of razors. All of the dreams started out differently, but all ended in the same place...a boiler room in some sort of factory or power plant.

Until today, there hadn't been a name put to this man or creature- whatever he was. They informed us today that one of my close friends, Amy, had died in her sleep. The cause was unknown...or at least it hadn't been released... But my best friend, Phillip, who had also been her boyfriend, had gone over to her house early that day to pick her up for school as he always did.

Just as he got there, a police officer pulled into the drive. Panicking and not wanting to be pushed out of the way, he burst into the front door. Amy's mom was sitting in a dining room chair with her husband standing over her and rubbing her shoulders. He wasn't crying though it was obvious that he was barely choking the tears back. When he saw the boy, he shook his head and started to speak, but Phillip wasn't focused on that. He was worried as to why her mom was crying...into his girlfriend's favorite blanket. His gut sank and his vision tunneled. He knew something was horribly wrong.

No words were exchanged. The only sound heard in the house was the mother's sobs before Phillip rushed up the stair case, ignoring the father's yells for him to stop as he chased after. Phillip scurried straight to his girlfriend's bedroom and barreled through the door that was all but closed. There, within those walls, he saw her, laying still beneath a tattered and bloody sheet on her bed. Shock didn't overcome him until he tore the stained white sheet from her body to see her naked...motionless...with a message cut and seared deep into the flesh on her back.

 _FREDDY'S HOME_

Phil grabbed hold of her, trying to roll her over. To wake her. To hear her speak or see her move at all. Anything. But she only laid there...a slowly cooling corpse as her boyfriend screamed frantically...desperate for it all to be an elaborate prank... However, as the slain girl's father took hold of the boy's shoulders from behind, attempting to drag him away, his tears fell heavily...and he broke.

Phil had said he apparently blacked out after that. The next thing he remembered was being in the back of an ambulance and handcuffed with blood on his hands and a terrible headache. He was never actually arrested though he was told later that he had shoved Amy's father to the ground and proceeded to attack an officer that had come in and went to get him away from the crime scene. His own parents obviously didn't want him going to school the next day, but being the person he was, he ignored them and attended classes anyway.

"Freddy."

I whispered the name to myself as I turned onto my side. I wondered how much of what was going on was real and what parts were in everyone's heads. I mean, dreams were just unconscious thoughts and everyone had bad dreams now and again, right? So could it not just be that a description of this man been told and then passed around and that's how so many people started dreaming about him? That would make sense though it did sound a bit like one of those sci-fi type weapons the military conjured up to attack enemies or the government used to control people. Ha! Look at me sounding like a conspiracy theorist!

But people were dying... kids... teenagers... Fuck, Amy was dead. There was no denying that. Not to me. There was no way Phil would have lied about something like that- something so graphic. He loved Amy. They had been together for a couple years even and had known each other longer... Mind-control conspiracy theories aside, of course. He was pretty smart, but I don't think that Phil was even creative enough to concoct such a story if he wanted to or subconsciously through suggestion... Was Freddy the man she had been dreaming about? That everyone had been dreaming about? Or was he just some neighborhood sicko who decided to show himself around the same time as these nightmares? Or some sort of sick fairy tale?

Sighing, I shifted my position again, this time facing the wall. I pushed my hand against it and drew invisible pictures on it with my index finger. My thoughts returned to the description of this man... scarred by burns? that claw... my fingers found their way down in my sheets, along my stomach, and then slowly underneath my thin nightgown.

Closing my eyes, I let my fingers just slightly caress my little, freshly shaven mound, before inching between my moist lips and carefully finding my clit... I pushed a bit harder against it and gave it a few gentle rubs. Cautious to not make a sound, I took in a deep breath, forcing my mouth closed to hide any moans that might escape as my fingertips moved up and down, and also in small circles. Inhaling and exhaling... the patterns became quicker and harder to hide. My breath hitched with nearly each little movement below my dress...

Opening my eyes, my face finding it more and more difficult to keep from pleasured expression, I made two of my fingers push apart my labia further, stretching my longest digit quickly yet carefully inside of me. I didn't have to be too versed in sexual behaviour to know I was quite tight... The tiny bit of pain I felt as I scratched myself with purposely jagged nails while pushing further inside me, pulling out, and repeating, was was enough to make a small spurt of sticky fluid come from within me...

I stopped moving for just a moment, keeping my hand in position while taking in a deep breath and closing my eyes once more... I then let go of the folds of skin around my vagina and extended two more slender fingers to give one hard jab inside. My pointed nails sunk mildly into the wall inside and I could feel them slightly cut the skin. I wasn't able to withhold a satisfied moan which was answered not even a minute later with the door to my room coming open.

"Are you alright, hun?" My mother had appeared at the in the doorway with a concerned look on her face.

Oddly stiffening myself while simultaneously lifting a knee under the covers to attempt hiding my sin, I gradually removed my hand from myself and rested it beside me. I smiled awkwardly, "Yes, I'm just...I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

The woman nodded, her demeanor unchanged as she walked over to the window, lifting the blinds and shaking the pane to be sure the glass was securely locked. She then did a once-over of my room like she used to do when I was little to show me that there were no monsters there to get me. However, I knew it was herself and not me, she was trying to convince this time that my room was free of monsters.

She stopped by my bed, placing her hand on my head and stroking my hair. Her smile was weak and mine stayed nervous... I wasn't worried with boogeyman...only that she might smell me and how uncomfortable her knowing I was masturbating would be... Nonetheless what I had been thinking about while doing it...

"You let me know if you need anything," she offered sweetly, but it was just annoying to me. "I'll probably be up most the night," her hand was still caressing my locks.

"Ok, mom. I'm just going to try and get some sleep," I gave another weird grin before abruptly turning to my other side away from her.

"Ok..." Mother trailed off.

I cut my eyes at an almost painful angle to watch her as she sauntered out of the room, pulling the door until there was only a slither of light shining through from the den on the other side. I sighed, rubbing my dirtied hand against my nightgown before placing both of them in a praying position underneath my head and resting my sight... Once more, I was thinking on the clawed man and moisture dripped between my thighs again...

What is wrong with me? My eyes shot open as I clasped my hands together tightly beneath me. This can't be normal...can it? I had never had a real boyfriend, let alone had sex... The furthest I had even gotten was a kiss with one of the 'troubled' boys from my school or else that is how my mom described him. I had touched myself before, but only a handful of times. No pun intended.

I had watched porn. I had seen naked men. Naked women even. Yet nothing ever really 'turned me on' except...except things like blood...knives...cutting...the simple adrenaline rush when I was wounded was the closest to sexual satisfaction I had ever experienced. I knew it couldn't be usual...you never heard about that kind of thing...so I hid it...from everyone. My mom would likely murder me herself if she knew I was trying to orgasm or even just thinking about sex...

I looked around my room. Shadows fell on the porcelain dolls decorating the shelves and my book bag from school had fallen over on its side in front of the chair right across from my bed. A lot of kids in my class had their own television sets or telephone, but not me. My mom thought there was no need to spoil a kid that much. Not to mention she was pretty strict...

Even with the hint of light coming in the crack of the door...I was alone...I was hidden...In my own company, I could trust myself with these evil thoughts...couldn't I? I was safe within my own devious mind...right?

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015  
Chapter rewritten 10/27/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other stories as well! Original works can be found through profile description.**


	2. Chapter 2: Not the Same

As I walked through the dark streets of my old neighborhood, a soft breeze kissed my cheeks in the cold night air, sending a chill through me and making me realize that I was bare foot. The sudden sensations of the soles I stood on freezing and being scratched a bit with every step, created the sudden awareness that I was dreaming...so I could control what was going on instead of simply watching some subconscious story progress.

I turned around to head back toward the home I had grown up in when I saw I had, in fact, been on my my way out of the small town...a place I often took respite in visiting or thinking about as it had meant much simpler times for my young brain. The place we had moved to, Springwood, wasn't much bigger than it, but the energy of it was so different that it felt as if I was in another country...not just another town or state. Even little as it was, Springwood seemed to have a more city-like atmosphere which varied quite a bit from the poor country town where I had been born.

On my trek back to my original house, I sensed that things had become even more still in the empty darkness. Something was off for certain... I remembered that there would be locusts chirping at this time of day and year so loud it could be overwhelming. Not to mention the crickets and the frogs that the place was always flooded with and the seasonal fireflies. There was no sound whatsoever...no chirping, no croaking... the wind had stopped as well and I couldn't even pick up the sound of my own treading footsteps.

I stopped in the middle of the street with sudden paranoia that someone was watching me...or something. My heart skipped a beat and then began pounding in my chest as I turned around, peering into the dark. I knew it was all a dream...all in my head, but I was somehow still frightened. I normally had pretty good control over my dreams. I had practiced and even studied techniques yet for some reason, I felt less powerful than was usual... I hadn't had an actual nightmare in quite some time- as in a dream that bothered me. I used to have them all the time hence my reasoning behind learning to take conscious control of my own dreamworld... Something was different about this one... It felt like the old days...

That small voice in my head kept assuring me that I could handle this and that they were just mental pictures. However scary- they weren't real. Instinct though, I suppose, took over and silenced her, leaving me with only this intense need to find safety and prepare to run... to get out of harm's way when it finally presented itself. So I started jogging until I had traveled that last half-block that left me in front of the home where I had spent my years prior to being a high school student. I ran up to the door and jiggled jiggled the handle, glancing around and still seeing nothing around me but the quiet neighborhood. From what I could tell, I was still alone, but that sense of impending doom had only worsened. As I shook the handle and pushed on the door again, my mind took in the number posted beside the large red-painted door...

 **1428**...that wasn't the number of the house I grew up in...

Just as this new information settled into my mind, the entrance swung open to expose a small foyer just before a staircase. I jumped inside and slammed the door behind me. There was a den to the left of me and a family dining room to the right. Off to the side of staircase and behind the den, I saw a kitchen with a breakfast nook... Everything inside appeared crisp and new...This wasn't my old home's interior either...

At that moment, the first sound I had heard in some time came. It was a young child laughing. Cautiously, and probably stupidly, I followed the voice into the den. Stepping around the couch revealed to me a small girl in a white dress sitting on the floor. She wasn't facing me, but she was moving...playing with something. I crept closer and looked over her. Finger paints. She was painting a picture on the floor there.

"Hello?" I called softly, not removing my eyes from her.

"Hello," the girl answered flatly in a tiny voice.

When I came to stand directly over the girl, I could see what she was painting...It was a picture I knew well yet still the sight shocked me. I had drawn it multiple times when I was younger after my parents divorced...up until my mom reprimanded me for continuing to do so. She told me I needed to grow up. On the floor, the girl had painted a house and a car with a large crack separating the two... Inside the house was a woman crying...my mom...and with the car was an angry man holding a dead cat...my dad.

"He did it on purpose, you know," the girl spoke, her face still hidden from my view.

"What?" my voice remained hushed as I started walking again... This time so that I was in front of the child.

"You were the cause of all their fights. So he ran over your cat to punish you and left mom to get away from you," the girl's voice had stayed flat and I became increasingly eager to see her face...

Finally in front of her, I leaned down at my waist, reaching a hand out to brush her long brunette hair to the side. Just as my hand grazed the tip of her hair, her head shot upward at an unnatural speed and cocked to the side. But instead of a young child's face, there was a rotting skull with bits of flesh falling off...covered in tiny wounds that looked like rat bites. There was still one eye within the stinking sockets there...and it, too had been chewed down.

I jumped backward in surprise, unable to keep from staring at the corpse. Once the image had properly imprinted itself into me, the girl disappeared with a sudden gust of wind as if she had been nothing except a ghost the entire time...but I had touched her...felt her... Once everything was still again and I was able to blink away from the scene... I heard a low chuckle come from the kitchen behind me.

"Who's there?" I yelled, spinning on my heels.

"Hello, Francine."

The raspy voice of a man greeted me as the form it belonged to produced itself from the shadows there. As he came into full view, I saw that it was none other than the strangely deformed and clawed man that I had been hearing so much about lately. I swallowed hard, taking in every aspect of his person. He wore dingy khaki pants and what would have been a nice striped Christmas sweater if the colors hadn't been so dimmed and the fabric itself torn and dirty. Atop his head was a brown fedora type hat with a large brim, equally as worn down as the rest of his attire.

"Freddy?" my voice was a whisper and I felt my hands start to sweat.

The man chuckled again and grinned, throwing his bladed hand- no it was a glove- into the air, "Ah! So somebody _did_ get my message."

He took a step closer to me with his weapon still raised, allowing me to make out the details of it being an old gardening glove with metal shields around the fingers that had long knives attached to the tops of them. The blades reached past the length of each finger and seemed to be thick and strong...and sharp... At sight of the device, I felt a twinge between my legs...

I didn't move as he approached me, instead clenching my fists as he neared, trying to remain strong. It apparently worked because the more I studied him, the less afraid I was and the more I waited with...anticipation at what he planned to do. I trained my attention away from his hand and to his face. He _was_ badly burned...even more so than I had at first pictured by the stories...but...he wasn't ugly. His cheek bones reflected a strong smile although he only wore a sly smirk. His brow was small and smooth, the most evolved look of humans as it exposed the eyes. And those eyes... They were blue...soft...and still somehow full of chaos...

My thoughts were pulled back to the present actions and I realized that my palms were no longer wet with sweat..and my heart had calmed from being fearful...no, I was still afraid...but also expectant. Blinking furiously a few times so that I could reassess the situation I was in, it seemed that Freddy had also changed...although I couldn't tell in what way it was... Either way, I felt I should speak though I wasn't sure what to say.

"Do you want to kill me?" I managed, thinking the words would come out quietly. However, my voice had a surprisingly normal tone.

Freddy cocked his head to the side as if he, too, was reassessing our situation. He pulled his claws back to his face, raising only one of the blades and using it to scratch his chin thoughtfully. Something within me wanted to get closer to him. I wanted to feel him...to see if he'd let me or if not, how he would stop me. Even so, I couldn't find the strength to move...not yet. I twiddled my fingers at my side, keeping my arms still. A stupid fear swept across my mind at that instant that if I did something, I would be the one to scare him off. So I just held still and waited.

"You're not afraid of me, huh?" Freddy inquired in that damaged voice.

I wasn't able to find my words...not that I would know which ones to say anyway. I was still confused at his existence, my sanity, and mostly, what I was feeling. So instead, I just kept staring at him and rubbing my fingertips together nervously. He lifted all of his blades again, before throwing them in my direction, once more retracted all of them but one, which he pointed straight at me. I could see feel it hovering just between my eyes.

"Do you want me to kill you, little girl?" a devilish grin crossed his face.

My hands finally found themselves just in front of my lap and wrung each other as they had started sweating again. Without moving my head, I glanced down at the painting the little girl had drawn that still showed at my feet. _Do you want me to kill you?_ His words echoed inside my head as I thought back to my short, pitiful life. My mom hated who I really was... I always had to pretend to be this image of me she had constructed in her mind... Otherwise she'd show her disdain through dirty looks, insults, and other punishments. My dad probably hated me even more than she did. He abandoned me...left me behind with _her_. Even what few friends I had didn't understand me. They couldn't because I couldn't ever let them know who I was...or else... And the others? They would act nice to my face...most of the time, but still they made fun of me...some even acted scared of me...like I was some dangerous freak. I _hated_ how I had to pretend. Despised what I was made to be... I just wanted someone to not care that I was different...yet nothing in life was that simple...everyone cared in the wrong way...

"Yes," I muttered. I wondered if I sounded as sad as I felt. I stopped looking at the dream man in front of me and hung my head, suddenly finding the will to grab an arm with my other hand and rubbing it absentmindedly.

"Hmm..." I could picture the man rubbing his chin again although from my new stance, I didn't actually have him in my sights.

After a moment without anymore noise, I felt I had been ghosted so I looked up once more. I had. I stood in the cold home, now dingy and worn...all alone. I sighed loudly and shrugged as I pondered what to do next. I didn't feel like anything anymore. Nonetheless, I turned back around, immediately emitting a tiny shriek as I found myself face to face with Freddy. This time we were so close that I could smell his burning flesh...feel the heat radiating from his body. With a growl, he raised his claw, softly resting all four blades against my face as his other arm stretched around my back and pulled me so tightly next to him that a sudden anxiety swept over me and gave me trouble with taking each breath.

"Perhaps we can help each other, then," he smirked, staring me down with crazed determination.

Before I mustered the courage to respond, he rapidly removed his blades from my face and instantly, I saw them fall to my chest. I let out a surprised cry as he not only tore through my nightgown, but into my young flesh beneath. My eyes could somehow see the long slash he made down my front, stopping just above my belly button. Blood burst out and then flowed down my pale skin and suddenly, the touch of his hand on my back and the claws against my stomach was gone.

I fell backward and onto the ground as soon as his support was gone and, unable to break my fall, hit my head hard against the ground, the images around me fading...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/15  
Chapter rewritten 10/27/2017**

 **Please let me know what you think and check out my other stories too! Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3: Uncertainty

_BURRRRRRIIIIIINGGGG!_

I awoke to the all-too familiar ring of the rooster alarm clock sitting on my nightstand. I had had it since I was very young. It had belonged to my grandmother, but I admired it so much growing up that she ended up giving it to me one year for my birthday. I remember being so thrilled and so proud to have it. It hadn't even been the 'nicest' or most expensive gift I had received that year, yet still, over ten years later, it meant more to me than the other presents I had mostly even forgotten what they were.

She had passed away since then. After grandpa had died from cancer that had gone untreated for too long because he was stubborn and hated doctors, she had found it really difficult to do much of anything. She tried to stay cheerful when I was around, but even being so little, I knew she had changed. Back in those days, it seemed back in those days, I didn't really worry about being the weirdo and I think it was because of her. She had been a bit of a black sheep herself, or so I gathered. She was the one person I ever felt truly loved me no matter how strange I turned out to be. I guess it was after she died that I begun caring... I didn't have that safe space anymore. Even my mother's unkind behaviour toward me about being different than the person she thought I should be seemed to increase. Maybe she had changed too when her parents slowly died...

The brief moment of happiness concerning my clock's past was quickly stripped away by these new thoughts, taking my smile and leaving me with my usual somber demeanor. I pushed myself into a seated position, not remembering the dream I had had until the bending of my stomach caused a burning sensation on its skin...the feeling of fresh cuts.

"Ow," the whine was under my breath as I took the blankets off my legs. "Shit," I muttered at seeing what I'd uncovered.

My nightgown was shredded and four bloodied gashes stretched from my chest to the bottom of my abdomen. The skin around the wounds had crusty, drying blood around them. I put my fingertips onto the cuts and could feel there was still some moisture there. I was still bleeding, though just barely. I started piecing back the events that had taken place during my slumber.

"Shit!" I said more loudly as I jumped up and ran to shut and lock my bedroom door.

I stood there, staring at my body in the mirror that hung on the back of the door, one hand cupping my mouth as my eyes widened in full realization that this was reality. I dropped that hand only long enough for both palms to reach my head, stretching back my forehead and pulling on my hair. What the fuck? This...was happening...actually happening. What...

"Jesus Christ..." I breathed...

"Francine?" the voice along with the sound of the doorknob in front of me rattling startled me, causing me to gasp. "Are you alright?" my mom asked.

"Yes! Yes, mom, I'm fine," my voice was oddly high and no doubt suspicious, "I'm fine; I'm just getting dressed." I said, my attention leaving her again to return to my injured flesh.

As I ran my fingers across the wounds, pressing their tips into the crimson indentations, the woman began to speak again, "Well, honey, please don't lock your door. At least not for a while. You know I'm very nervous the two of us being here alone... Especially with all that's going on."

The doorknob was rattling again.

Rolling my eyes, I skipped over to the closet behind the door and grabbed a sundress and throwing it over me. It barely concealed my destroyed clothes and the gashes, but it was the best I could do at the moment. I returned to the door and unlocked it or else she would get angry at me. I smiled at my mom as she casually entered and pulled me into a hug. Fortunately, I was somewhat used to this type of pain so I didn't flinch as she pressed against me.

"Are you sure you feel like going to school today?" she asked, letting me out of the abnormal embrace and placing her hands in a clasp of faux-worry in front of her chest.

"Uh," I began, flustered, "Yeah, I'll be fine. I need to be there for Phil and the others."

"Yeah?" she repeated in a mock tone with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am," I corrected, careful not to show any annoyance at having to do so.

She smiled then, patting me on my shoulder and turning back toward the hall, "Straight home after school, ok?" she spoke adamantly, stopping to rest her hand on my door handle as she waited for a proper answer.

"Yes ma'am," I nodded fervently.

She promptly left and, trying not to be too obvious, I stepped quickly after in order to once again close and lock the door. I rapidly tore off the dress, noticing that it now had a couple of spots of blood on the inside. Likewise, I stripped from my night clothes and gazed upon my injuries in the mirror one more time before turning my attention to the gown in my hand.

So, he was real?

Shifting the nightgown from one hand to the other, I inspected my fingernails. They were perfectly clean and unbroken, nothing underneath them, and no blood except for where I had at first felt the wet spots on my stomach. I rubbed them together, then rubbed my eyes before giving them another once over and trying to properly assess the situation. I walked back toward my bed, pulling the blanket and sheet up, looking under it, and then examining each on their own. Outside of a few spots of blood, they were fine. Taking a closer look around the bed, I saw no knives, loose wires, sticks...nothing that could have been the explained the attack.

Still putting it all together as I ran through the dream again in my head, I stuffed my gown into my book bag so that it was hidden and then found fresh undergarments along with a black sweater and flowing black skirt out of my closet. I gave one last look in the mirror before dressing. As the initial confusion and shock of the experience was fading, I found myself admiring this dream man's handiwork. The bright red and even the dark bits where the blood was drying, colored my flawless white skin in a morbid yet beautiful manner. The gashes themselves portrayed much better the frustrations I had often tried to get out in the scrapes I had made myself in secret places along my body. I could never risk mother knowing that I self-harmed. She'd beat me or have me locked away for sure...

I probably should have showered that morning before leaving, but I wasn't used to doing so until after school so I hadn't really the extra time. I did, however, want something to eat... Mom was downstairs in the kitchen already...I could smell the eggs. I took a breath, confident that no distress was showing and let myself out of the room, pacing down the hallway and trotting downstairs. As I came around the banister at the end of the stairs and hopped into the kitchen, the older woman pulled out a chair where a plate of eggs and toast sat waiting for me.

In her presence once more though, I began feeling anxious to be on my own again... So even though I was hungry and loved eggs, I only strolled by the table and grabbed the toast. Mom opened her mouth to protest, but fortunately I was quick witted enough when it came to her that I simply said, "I'm not that hungry," with a smile, instantly adding, "Besides, you should eat something too."

I said it with a small, side-hug and a knowing wink. She had gotten in a habit of neglecting to eat. I first noticed it after the divorce and it gradually got worse until lack of nutrition showed in her decreased weight. I was certain she wouldn't argue, taking the act as kindness and concern for her. She loved to focus on her and play the victim. Even so, I didn't wait for an answer before jumping through the screen door at the back of the nook and waving goodbye as I shoved the toast into my mouth.

Skipping down the street in a hurry to distance myself from the home, I couldn't help but reach my hand down to my stomach to feel what I could of the wounds beneath my clothes. I should have been terrified. If this Freddy guy in my dream was Springwood's killer, then I'd soon be tortured and killed, judging by the patterns with the other kids. And yet...these thoughts not only made me happy...they excited me.

Halfway down the street, I remembered Phillip. I didn't really know if he would be at school though he most likely would be, so even though I always walked by myself, I doubled back and made the turn toward his house.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015  
Chapter rewritten 10/27/2017**

 **Please let me know what you think and check out my other stories too! Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4: A Bad Friend

The weight I'd the air inside Phil's home was so overwhelmingly strong that I felt the glum mood even before the door was open to me. My first knock was so gentle, I didn't really expect anyone to hear, yet somehow they did. I guess part of the somber atmosphere came from the quiet of the the house. When the door was answered, Phil's mom was standing behind it. Her flushed face and glossy eyes made it obvious she'd been crying.

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson," I tried to speak pleasantly, but not too happily. I didn't want to add to the depression. Neither did I want to come off as insensitive. My face squirmed oddly between not frowning and not smiling. "I just came to check on Phil."

"Oh," the woman sniffed, offering a weak half-smile, "I don't think he will be coming to school today."

"May I come in and see him?" I asked softly.

She hesitated, then nodded, letting me past her where I walked to the bottom of the staircase and stood as she closed the home again. I had been there a few times before even though my mom liked to keep a tight leash on me so I didn't really hang out with others too often because I was afraid I'd do something wrong and be punished. The house had a similar structure as mine did. It seemed that most of the homes around here were a lot alike. At least in that regard. I waited in my spot while she turned around, rubbing her nose with another sniff.

"I don't know if he feels like company," she gestured up the stairs, "but he's in his room. Just go on up."

"Thank you," I gave a glimpse of a smile before beginning the ascent. I didn't know how my mom would react if she knew I had been alone with a guy or even that I'd gone somewhere else other than school...but I was getting to the point I didn't care much. Life was hell as it was. What would a few punishments really tack on, to make me more dead than I already was?

The stairs creaked with every step- the only sound in the place and slowing or quickening my pie or deepening my tread didn't seem to make a difference. So I ignored the annoying noise and just finished my trek. I hadn't made a decision on what I was going to tell him about the previous night...my encounter with Freddy... Or if I was going to say anything at all.

Reaching his room, I found that the door wasn't completely closed. I tapped lightly with the back of my knuckles and got no response. I didn't want to leave,but knocking louder felt rude to me so instead I slowly pushed the door open and popped my head inside. Phil was laying in bed on his back, wearing a plain T-shirt and shorts. The covers beneath him were messy and he had hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, face emotionless and still.

"Phillip?" I almost whispered, venturing further in.

I stopped just beside the bed, putting my hand his shoulder. He hadn't moved or taken any notice of me. He simply laid there, gazing into nothingness. He was breathing; I could see the small up and down movement of his chest. It was an odd scenario and part of me wondered if he was ignoring me because he was angry with me. I reached up and began rubbing the muscle of his shoulder between my fingers, putting on a portrait of concern on my face.

"Are you OK?" I asked in a whisper that sounded loudly.

His face twitched, but he stayed as he was and continued his silence. Retreating my hand, my mind began convincing me he was upset with me. Didn't want to see me... I carefully pedaled back away from him and to the door. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I tried once more before I left.

He sighed as he blinked and turned his head to see me, "No, Frankie. I...I just don't know what to do. All I can think about is killing the son of a bitch who did this to her..."

Hearing Phil's strong voice crack at the end of those words put a pang in my heart. I didn't know what to say. Nothing I did could make him feel better and to be honest, if I wasn't stuck in that room with him, I wouldn't even be worried about it. Every time a hint of this Freddy touched my mind, I felt excitement even though I hid it. But having to be part of his pain made me uncomfortable and I wanted that discomfort to end.

After several moments without reply from me, the boy shot up in his bed, flinging his legs over the side of the bed. His expression had changed from sad to furious, "The police are saying they haven't ruled out the possibility of suicide," he scoffed, "I _know_ my girl, Frankie. She would never do that. Not after her brother..."

I bit my lip, wanting to speak, but also afraid I'd say the wrong thing. Amy's brother had been fifteen when he shot himself. He had been diagnosed with a chemical imbalance which caused him to experience very severe mood swings. Not exactly like bipolar but similar. He had been having a particularly rough time and hit a depressed spell. He found his father's gun one night and blew through his own head. No notes, no warnings. He was just gone. Amy was five years younger than him.

"Amy was a very strong person," I finally said, "And you made her happy."

"I know!" Phillip cried, "That's what I'm saying! She-she wouldn't have done this...if something was wrong she would have talked to me and..." he stopped suddenly like a though had struck him.

I sat down on the bed beside him, my gaze never faltering, "What is it?"

"It's just..." he sighed, looking down at his hands in lap, "Those nightmares she had been having...She acted like they were nothing, but I knew they were scaring her."

"They were just bad dreams," I gave. The conversation had convinced me not to say anything about my own nightmare.

"Yeah, maybe, but..." he looked up at me again, "But don't you think it's weird how a week after she started having them, she was murdered? Especially after the same thing has been happening to other people?"

"Phil," I scooted closer to him, something was telling me to steer him away from his current line of thought, "Dreams are very influential. I mean...you and I could easily have the same dreams because Amy had told us about them. Besides," I put my hand on his, "A lot of those kids have had the nightmares longer than her and they're still alive."

Turning his attention back to his lap, where my hand was now resting within his, Phil took in a breath before his eyes returned focus to me. Taking in his deep, shadowed eyes didn't sadden me or even make me feel worried. It actually...made me feel happy. It was as if so long as someone was hurting that wasn't me, I could be content. And...the dialogue was also setting in stone the reality of Freddy.

Thinking of the dream demon and staring at the sorrow in my friend's eyes...both were arousing. I wanted to lean closer to Phillip and lock my lips with his, taking in the full extent of his despair. My insides clenched and I wondered if our close proximity allowed him to feel this...

Before I knew it happened, our lips had touched and we exchanged sweet suffering for a few precious minutes before he finally pushed me away. My eyes quickly re-adjusted to my surroundings and took in the sight of my friend standing, towering above me, hands on his head and tears in his eyes.

"I-I shouldn't have done that..I just..." he didn't look at me as he muttered the words.

I swallowed, quickly licking my lips before he could see, and rising from the bed as well. He instantly made a safe distance between us. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"No, I, it's my fault," I said, unable to tell if I actually cared or not, but feeling quite awkward nonetheless.

The boy sat down again, at last looking at me and with a grin, "We've both taken in a lot. I think we just need some time to recover."

I smiled weakly, "Yeah."

There was a short pause and then I walked to the door, placing a hand on the knob and glancing back at my friend. "I think I'm gonna stay home today too. So call me if you need anything or just want to talk or...or whatever."

"Ok," he replied, "Same here."

And with that, I left. Downstairs, I heard some light sobs coming from the den. I ignored them and let myself out the front door. Now, I _knew_ I really was messed up. How could I be so selfish? And moreover, how could I long for others to be in pain? And not just anyone, but my friends...good people shouldn't have to suffer...

I exhaled sharply while I kept walking down the side of the street. Friends? I guess... Was this really friendship? Or just familiarity? Didn't being friends with someone mean you wanted to spend time with them...missed their company and really cared for their happiness? People who liked you for you in spite of how ducked up you could be at times? A person you didn't have to pretend with...

I had to admit at that point, I didn't know. If that was what a friend was...I guess I didn't actually have any. I felt no sorrow over Amy's death. In fact, I had felt more content these past couple of days than I had in a long while. It was like...the fewer people there were around me, the less I had to hide myself.

My mind went back to the man I saw in my dreams...the man that had to be real even though it sounded illogical... No, actually with what I knew, what others knew...logic would suggest it was so... Right? If god, if Satan...all these paranormal beings could be real like I had been taught... Then why was the existence of a dream demon impossible?

 _Maybe we can help each other..._

His words repeated over and over inside my head. The image of that evil smirk flashed in my mind. Those dirty teeth and determined eyes all set within his charred flesh... Suddenly I was reminded of the pain when his claws cut into me and tore down my front...

"Francine!"

I shook my head and focused on what was around me. I was just a door down from my home. I didn't realize how much time had passed. Mom was standing outside, her arms crossed, gazing out after me. As I neared, she spoke again.

"Mrs. Johnson called me. She said that you were over there," I couldn't tell if she was worried or angry.

"I wasn't sure if Phil would be at school so I stopped by there on the way," I explained nervously.

The woman placed her hand on my shoulders, "Yes, she told me that he was staying home today. So does that mean you will be too?"

I nodded, "Yes ma'am."

She let go of me, "Come in. Finish breakfast and then you can rest, ok?"

"Ok, Mom," I mumbled, trying to keep my dirty thoughts at bay whilst in her presence.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015  
Chapter rewritten 10/28/2017**

 **Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and check out my other stories too!**


	5. Chapter 5: Re-Encounter

I had finished the eggs that mom had left on the table from not even an hour earlier, having refused to eat them herself. I had to admit that it aggravated me. She never accepted my help or advice and then turned around and acted like the world was against her. It was infuriating. Don't beg for compliments just to throw them away when one was given to you, ya know?

I had so often done things to try and push her out of this depressive state, but she would have none of it. If I or anyone else suggested that she talk to someone, she would become angry and insist that nothing about her being upset was out of the ordinary. Her feelings were more than justified so that meant nothing was 'wrong' with her...that she didn't need help. But was how she acted and how she treated me really normal?

I turned my attention to the small TV set sitting on a shelf next to my dresser. It was the set usually in the kitchen for Mom to keep up with the news and her stories as she was working, but it doubled as a comfort item. When anyone in the house was feeling ill, we would put the set into their rooms so they could keep themselves entertained while resting. I guess Mom figured I needed it today... Upon retreating to my room, I had turned the machine on, but I hardly noticed what was playing. Even looking at it now, my thoughts were elsewhere.

On a typical free day, I would be lounged about reading or outside cycling the neighborhood. That is if my friends weren't dragging me to hang out with them swimming, riding, or even just hanging around chatting perhaps over an shake at the ice cream parlor. But today...today was different in so many ways.

My mind stayed busy with the thoughts of Phil and of Amy. I wondered if Phil would ever get through such a sudden and tragic loss. My dad had only left my mom and me. He hadn't died or been taken from us and my mom still couldn't seem to cope so how would Phil deal with all of this? I flipped the television off, placed the remote on my bedside table, and turned over on my back.

Then my thoughts went to Freddy.

I was still having difficulty settling it in my being that he was real. I knew he had to be and at the same time I knew a just had to be insane But it wasn't completely in my head. It had been over a month ago that I had first heard about people at school dreaming about this guy. Last night, I had even dreamt about him being after me and had even been injured without any rational explanation as to there being another culprit... So, I hadn't made up the story myself and it didn't seem that even through the power of suggestion that so many would suddenly have such violent and similar nightmares. That meant that there was something going on causing us all to dream about the same thing AND get physically hurt...

And there _was_ something killing people...young people. It naturally followed that the two were connected. Maybe there was a night stalker out there with, I don't know, a chemical? that he was getting to people...in their food? in the air? ...and it influenced our dreams. They could be following us around and attacking us while we were sleeping. That had to be what was going on. It made the most sense. But why was this killer focusing on teenagers and kids? Why all the terror and why would they give us a name? Freddy. Even if it weren't their real name, it had to mean something... There had to be a bigger picture, right? A reason for all this?

I closed my eyes, recalling every detail from my dream that I could. Definitely some sort of stalker... He knew things about me. Personal things. Was this dream demon being controlled by someone I knew? I was exceedingly curious and confused...but these things weren't my main concern. The part I couldn't get out of my head was his face...those eyes...the way he pulled me tightly against him and then mutilated my body, taking my breath away in more ways than one... It had all felt so real...even recalling it now was like experiencing each sensation all over again.

I should go back to sleep...see what happened. It was daytime...if I got hurt in the dream, it'd be less likely for someone to sneak in and injure me in real life. That would help me decipher if this was something paranormal or just some weird creep with mad scientist skills. I slit my eyes, cutting my ears to that beyond my room. I couldn't hear anything. Mom was likely still downstairs. I carefully crept to my door, peeking outside before stepping out and heading to the bathroom.

I silently closed it behind me so that the latch didn't alert anyone. Turning to the cabinet, I opened it and let my gaze roam over the contents. There wasn't a lot of medications inside other than over the counter pain killers, cough syrup, and diphenhydramine, but there were sleeping pills. Sometimes Mom would go days without sleeping if it weren't for that prescription. Spinning each bottle around to face me, it took no time for me to find the aide. Retrieving the bottle, I realized that there were only a few pills left.

I hesitated to dump any from the bottle. I didn't want Mom knowing that I was taking them. Whether I denied it or not, if she noticed, she would berate me and probably ground me too. Might take me to the doctor and bitch that I was an addict or some shit. I briefly contemplated if I wanted to risk the hassle and the desire to see Freddy...to solve the mystery outweighed the possibility of consequence.

I poured two pills into my hand, sealing the bottle and shaking it lightly. It still made the same rattling noise. Unless she's been counting, perhaps the missing tablets would go unnoticed. I popped the medicine into my mouth, turning on the faucet below me and cupping my hands beneath the stream. I sipped enough of the puddle to swallow them and then turned the water off again.

Wiping my hands on my skirt, I opened the bathroom door and returned to my room and studied it for any way that a predator could get to me. The only entrances were my one window and the door. So unless they were already inside... I kneeled beside the bed and looked beneath it. Nothing. The closet was empty as well and there were no other hiding places. I went to the window. The screen was popped into place and intact. The glass was shut and locked. I glanced around outside. Nobody around and the clearing beneath my room was large and we'll lit with no way to get up to it from the outside except for leaning a ladder against the house.

I closed the curtains and looked around the room again. My eyes found the porcelain doll collection my family had put together for me over the years. Taking firm hold of my nightstand, I pulled it from its spot until it was directly under the window frame. I then went and gathered an armful of dolls and placed them delicately on the table. I even had some precariously stationed on the edge of the sill. Then I turned and looked at the bedroom door which was pulled to. My mom worked from home and she was hyper-aware. Nobody would get inside from elsewhere without her noticing a new person was roaming the house.

The medicine seemed to have begun taking effect a I laid down in bed with one last glance around. Satisfied of precautions, I found a comfortable position, closed my eyes, and waited for my body to fall into slumber...

"Hah aahahahahaha!" the echoing evil laughter pulled me from darkness and into the dream world.

I spun on my heels to be greeted by the sight of a long, but empty hallway that shone with a faint blue light coming from the opposite end. Glancing back and seeing nothing behind me except a stone wall, I trudged forward. Besides the sound of my feet, I could only hear dripping water. As I journeyed further, I also felt an occasional drop and the humidity of the leaks from the ceiling and walls.

After a while, the crunching of my steps began to put my nerves more on edge as it made obvious my position. I mean, I wanted to run into Freddy. I guess it was just instinct to want to hide in hostile territory. That and even though it's what I was wishing for, I was still anxious about the confrontation and anticipation grew with every stride. That laugh had been his. He was waiting for me. I wasn't afraid of him...not exactly. I was more fearful that I would not be able to handle whatever he planned to do to me. I enjoyed pain..but what if too much of it... Or a certain type... Maybe there was some form I was incapable of deriving pleasure from... Then again, I didn't know what was going to happen. He let me go once. He could have killed me and he didn't.

 _Maybe we can help each other._

His raspy voice was in my head again. Help each other? What could I do? What did he want to accomplish that he'd need the help of a high school girl? Whether the person that controlled these dreams had a physical body or not... It seemed he was powerful. He basically be within people's dreams, frighten them to the core, and kill them... I could barely even fight. How could I possibly help him?

I had finally reached the end of the hallway. The light had grown extremely bright. So much so that it was blinding. But my mind knew that I had to push forward in order to see Freddy. I kept walking into the light until my eyes became used to it. And what I saw when the intensity lessened...was less disturbing than what I felt it was supposed to be...and to how it would have affected a normal person.

Inside the light was my home...the one where I lived now melded together with the one I grew up in. It was completely in shambles. Dirty, broken, dismal... I walked up to it and it took all my strength to lift the broken door out of the way and creep under it. Inside, I stepped around tattered carpets, shattered windows and rotting wood, only to see more and more destruction not just of the building, but of items- toys from my childhood, clothes from the present, and the numerous gifts I had been given over the years... All things irreparable and irreplaceable...including my grandmother's alarm clock... I stopped only momentarily to stare down at it. Initially I was upset at the thought. But it wasn't real. Didn't matter if it was either because it wasn't like I could take it into the afterlife.

"Heheheheh..." another, deeper laugh came from the demon...from upstairs.

I left the clock and went to the stairs, eyeing it's security. It was damaged, but looked passable Convenient. I started making cautious steps upward, dodging missing planks and deep holes. Once on the second floor, I heard a noise. It sounded like a small crash in my mother's room. I strolled toward it and saw that it was wrecked as well. While I looked more intently at the space...eyes scanning, there was another sudden and loud noise as a large object dropped from the ceiling.

I jumped back and retrained my eyes to study the object. It hadn't been an object at all. The motionlessness in the dark had just made me assume so. No, it was a corpse...that of my mother Her body was hanging limp by a rope that attached her broken neck to the light fixture above.

Putting my hand to my mouth to cover a gasp... I instantly dropped it. I hadn't gasped. I wasn't screaming...nor crying. , Nothing in me was mourning her loss. Not even in theory. My mind tried desperately to change that-tell me the way I should be reacting, but I couldn't force myself to fake things I didn't feel...not when there was no one to punish me for thinking differently, being myself... The thought of her death...relieved me. It was freeing to imagine a life without her overbearing criticism and all-encompassing control of my life.

"Hah ha ha," the coarse laughter sounded loudly again. This time from behind me.

I followed the sound back out of the room, my eyes staying behind on my mother's dead weight swaying in the air as I left Freddy's chuckling had come from my bedroom.

I quickened my pace to reach my destination. Now even more eager than ever to meet my saviour. I _was_ taken aback at what I saw there... Nothing in the room had been harmed and it was in pristine condition. Instead, however of my porcelain dolls and other pretty things that it was normally decorated with...there were dragon figurines, ornate skulls, posters of rock bands and horror films... Things I loved. Items I had seen in stores that I had admired and some that I had bought only to bring home for my mother to throw away. These things were inappropriate...evil...she said...

It was the most emotion I had felt since entering this dream and it was bittersweet. It was joyous to see all these things I loved replacing those that had been forced upon me by others. And it was disparaging to know it wasn't real. I was still being forced to be someone I wasn't.

"Francine..." a soft yet raspy voice called.

Slowly, I turned. In the doorway to my room, Freddy was leaning against its frame. He was in his usual tattered attire and was smiling at me in quiet study. I could feel his eyes all over my being.

With a deep breath and a short exhale, I cocked my head to the side and crossed my arms. Putting my own gaze upon the creature, I stepped still nervous steps closer to him and found a new position mere inches away from this...man.

"Freddy," I spoke.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 10/28/2017**

I had finished the eggs that mom had left on the table from not even an hour earlier, having refused to eat them herself. I had to admit that it aggravated me. She never accepted my help or advice and then turned around and acted like the world was against her. It was infuriating. Don't beg for compliments just to throw them away when one was given to you, ya know?

I had so often done things to try and push her out of this depressive state, but she would have none of it. If I or anyone else suggested that she talk to someone, she would become angry and insist that nothing about her being upset was out of the ordinary. Her feelings were more than justified so that meant nothing was 'wrong' with her...that she didn't need help. But was how she acted and how she treated me really normal?

I turned my attention to the small TV set sitting on a shelf next to my dresser. It was the set usually in the kitchen for Mom to keep up with the news and her stories as she was working, but it doubled as a comfort item. When anyone in the house was feeling ill, we would put the set into their rooms so they could keep themselves entertained while resting. I guess Mom figured I needed it today... Upon retreating to my room, I had turned the machine on, but I hardly noticed what was playing. Even looking at it now, my thoughts were elsewhere.

On a typical free day, I would be lounged about reading or outside cycling the neighborhood. That is if my friends weren't dragging me to hang out with them swimming, riding, or even just hanging around chatting perhaps over an shake at the ice cream parlor. But today...today was different in so many ways.

My mind stayed busy with the thoughts of Phil and of Amy. I wondered if Phil would ever get through such a sudden and tragic loss. My dad had only left my mom and me. He hadn't died or been taken from us and my mom still couldn't seem to cope so how would Phil deal with all of this? I flipped the television off, placed the remote on my bedside table, and turned over on my back.

Then my thoughts went to Freddy.

I was still having difficulty settling it in my being that he was real. I knew he had to be and at the same time I knew a just had to be insane But it wasn't completely in my head. It had been over a month ago that I had first heard about people at school dreaming about this guy. Last night, I had even dreamt about him being after me and had even been injured without any rational explanation as to there being another culprit... So, I hadn't made up the story myself and it didn't seem that even through the power of suggestion that so many would suddenly have such violent and similar nightmares. That meant that there was something going on causing us all to dream about the same thing AND get physically hurt...

And there _was_ something killing people...young people. It naturally followed that the two were connected. Maybe there was a night stalker out there with, I don't know, a chemical? that he was getting to people...in their food? in the air? ...and it influenced our dreams. They could be following us around and attacking us while we were sleeping. That had to be what was going on. It made the most sense. But why was this killer focusing on teenagers and kids? Why all the terror and why would they give us a name? Freddy. Even if it weren't their real name, it had to mean something... There had to be a bigger picture, right? A reason for all this?

I closed my eyes, recalling every detail from my dream that I could. Definitely some sort of stalker... He knew things about me. Personal things. Was this dream demon being controlled by someone I knew? I was exceedingly curious and confused...but these things weren't my main concern. The part I couldn't get out of my head was his face...those eyes...the way he pulled me tightly against him and then mutilated my body, taking my breath away in more ways than one... It had all felt so real...even recalling it now was like experiencing each sensation all over again.

I should go back to sleep...see what happened. It was daytime...if I got hurt in the dream, it'd be less likely for someone to sneak in and injure me in real life. That would help me decipher if this was something paranormal or just some weird creep with mad scientist skills. I slit my eyes, cutting my ears to that beyond my room. I couldn't hear anything. Mom was likely still downstairs. I carefully crept to my door, peeking outside before stepping out and heading to the bathroom.

I silently closed it behind me so that the latch didn't alert anyone. Turning to the cabinet, I opened it and let my gaze roam over the contents. There wasn't a lot of medications inside other than over the counter pain killers, cough syrup, and diphenhydramine, but there were sleeping pills. Sometimes Mom would go days without sleeping if it weren't for that prescription. Spinning each bottle around to face me, it took no time for me to find the aide. Retrieving the bottle, I realized that there were only a few pills left.

I hesitated to dump any from the bottle. I didn't want Mom knowing that I was taking them. Whether I denied it or not, if she noticed, she would berate me and probably ground me too. Might take me to the doctor and bitch that I was an addict or some shit. I briefly contemplated if I wanted to risk the hassle and the desire to see Freddy...to solve the mystery outweighed the possibility of consequence.

I poured two pills into my hand, sealing the bottle and shaking it lightly. It still made the same rattling noise. Unless she's been counting, perhaps the missing tablets would go unnoticed. I popped the medicine into my mouth, turning on the faucet below me and cupping my hands beneath the stream. I sipped enough of the puddle to swallow them and then turned the water off again.

Wiping my hands on my skirt, I opened the bathroom door and returned to my room and studied it for any way that a predator could get to me. The only entrances were my one window and the door. So unless they were already inside... I kneeled beside the bed and looked beneath it. Nothing. The closet was empty as well and there were no other hiding places. I went to the window. The screen was popped into place and intact. The glass was shut and locked. I glanced around outside. Nobody around and the clearing beneath my room was large and we'll lit with no way to get up to it from the outside except for leaning a ladder against the house.

I closed the curtains and looked around the room again. My eyes found the porcelain doll collection my family had put together for me over the years. Taking firm hold of my nightstand, I pulled it from its spot until it was directly under the window frame. I then went and gathered an armful of dolls and placed them delicately on the table. I even had some precariously stationed on the edge of the sill. Then I turned and looked at the bedroom door which was pulled to. My mom worked from home and she was hyper-aware. Nobody would get inside from elsewhere without her noticing a new person was roaming the house.

The medicine seemed to have begun taking effect a I laid down in bed with one last glance around. Satisfied of precautions, I found a comfortable position, closed my eyes, and waited for my body to fall into slumber...

"Hah aahahahahaha!" the echoing evil laughter pulled me from darkness and into the dream world.

I spun on my heels to be greeted by the sight of a long, but empty hallway that shone with a faint blue light coming from the opposite end. Glancing back and seeing nothing behind me except a stone wall, I trudged forward. Besides the sound of my feet, I could only hear dripping water. As I journeyed further, I also felt an occasional drop and the humidity of the leaks from the ceiling and walls.

After a while, the crunching of my steps began to put my nerves more on edge as it made obvious my position. I mean, I wanted to run into Freddy. I guess it was just instinct to want to hide in hostile territory. That and even though it's what I was wishing for, I was still anxious about the confrontation and anticipation grew with every stride. That laugh had been his. He was waiting for me. I wasn't afraid of him...not exactly. I was more fearful that I would not be able to handle whatever he planned to do to me. I enjoyed pain..but what if too much of it... Or a certain type... Maybe there was some form I was incapable of deriving pleasure from... Then again, I didn't know what was going to happen. He let me go once. He could have killed me and he didn't.

 _Maybe we can help each other._

His raspy voice was in my head again. Help each other? What could I do? What did he want to accomplish that he'd need the help of a high school girl? Whether the person that controlled these dreams had a physical body or not... It seemed he was powerful. He basically be within people's dreams, frighten them to the core, and kill them... I could barely even fight. How could I possibly help him?

I had finally reached the end of the hallway. The light had grown extremely bright. So much so that it was blinding. But my mind knew that I had to push forward in order to see Freddy. I kept walking into the light until my eyes became used to it. And what I saw when the intensity lessened...was less disturbing than what I felt it was supposed to be...and to how it would have affected a normal person.

Inside the light was my home...the one where I lived now melded together with the one I grew up in. It was completely in shambles. Dirty, broken, dismal... I walked up to it and it took all my strength to lift the broken door out of the way and creep under it. Inside, I stepped around tattered carpets, shattered windows and rotting wood, only to see more and more destruction not just of the building, but of items- toys from my childhood, clothes from the present, and the numerous gifts I had been given over the years... All things irreparable and irreplaceable...including my grandmother's alarm clock... I stopped only momentarily to stare down at it. Initially I was upset at the thought. But it wasn't real. Didn't matter if it was either because it wasn't like I could take it into the afterlife.

"Heheheheh..." another, deeper laugh came from the demon...from upstairs.

I left the clock and went to the stairs, eyeing it's security. It was damaged, but looked passable Convenient. I started making cautious steps upward, dodging missing planks and deep holes. Once on the second floor, I heard a noise. It sounded like a small crash in my mother's room. I strolled toward it and saw that it was wrecked as well. While I looked more intently at the space...eyes scanning, there was another sudden and loud noise as a large object dropped from the ceiling.

I jumped back and retrained my eyes to study the object. It hadn't been an object at all. The motionlessness in the dark had just made me assume so. No, it was a corpse...that of my mother Her body was hanging limp by a rope that attached her broken neck to the light fixture above.

Putting my hand to my mouth to cover a gasp... I instantly dropped it. I hadn't gasped. I wasn't screaming...nor crying. , Nothing in me was mourning her loss. Not even in theory. My mind tried desperately to change that-tell me the way I should be reacting, but I couldn't force myself to fake things I didn't feel...not when there was no one to punish me for thinking differently, being myself... The thought of her death...relieved me. It was freeing to imagine a life without her overbearing criticism and all-encompassing control of my life.

"Hah ha ha," the coarse laughter sounded loudly again. This time from behind me.

I followed the sound back out of the room, my eyes staying behind on my mother's dead weight swaying in the air as I left Freddy's chuckling had come from my bedroom.

I quickened my pace to reach my destination. Now even more eager than ever to meet my saviour. I _was_ taken aback at what I saw there... Nothing in the room had been harmed and it was in pristine condition. Instead, however of my porcelain dolls and other pretty things that it was normally decorated with...there were dragon figurines, ornate skulls, posters of rock bands and horror films... Things I loved. Items I had seen in stores that I had admired and some that I had bought only to bring home for my mother to throw away. These things were inappropriate...evil...she said...

It was the most emotion I had felt since entering this dream and it was bittersweet. It was joyous to see all these things I loved replacing those that had been forced upon me by others. And it was disparaging to know it wasn't real. I was still being forced to be someone I wasn't.

"Francine..." a soft yet raspy voice called.

Slowly, I turned. In the doorway to my room, Freddy was leaning against its frame. He was in his usual tattered attire and was smiling at me in quiet study. I could feel his eyes all over my being.

With a deep breath and a short exhale, I cocked my head to the side and crossed my arms. Putting my own gaze upon the creature, I stepped still nervous steps closer to him and found a new position mere inches away from this...man.

"Freddy," I spoke.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 10/28/2017**

 **Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and check out my other stories!**


	6. Chapter 6: An Unique Bond

The man before me lifted himself from against the frame and crossed his arms to match mine in a blatant mock. He stood like that for a moment, waiting, I guess, for me to react, but I didn't. When time passed and I hadn't, he clicked his blades open into the air at his side. He said nothing; only smiled with that evil arrogance that I had quickly grown fond of. I wasn't in the mood to wait around for too long so instead of trying keeping my stance, I broke the tension and spoke.

"What did you mean by helping each other," I breathed.

His lips fell out of the grin and curled. Letting his arms down, he reached his gloved hand back up to his chin and scratched it with a single blade. I took only a second to look around the room without really turning my head at all, but it was enough for him to sneak up next to me. Although we weren't touching, I could feel his warmth...the proximity was more than I could take.

My insides clenching, I stepped backward, tripping over and onto the bed that was suddenly close behind me as if the room had shifted. Just as my body fell upon the mattress, Freddy bounded through the air and landed atop me He pinned me down, his hands on my wrists and knees pressing harshly into my thighs. I gasped and my breathing became uneasy...

"I've never had that happen before," he growled with barred teeth that looked ready to tear into my flesh. "Not even when I was alive. This kind of reaction is...new."

"Wh-what reaction?" I stammered.

Instantly, his gloved hand let go of me, but something still restrained that wrist. The claw instead was upon my stomach then. Its knives curled, scratching softly around my belly button before trailing down and stopping to rest on my crotch. I was still clothed, but the touch was enticing. He then pressed his blades firmly against me and even through my skirt, I could feel their sharpness. He kept his gaze on my face the entire time, taking in every nuance...each flutter of my eyes, the small vibrations and twitches I made. It was hard to focus on anything other than his touch, but I managed to look back into his blue eyes.

I did my best not to react. It was impossible. Even so, I returned the glare, trying to decipher his intentions. No luck. I could have spoken to push events along... However, before I could, he snarled and disappeared.

I shot up, no longer restrained. Eager not to lose contact with, I hopped from the bed, my eyes darting around the room. When I didn't see him in the, I skipped toward the door. Looking from side to side, I saw the way was clear. Slowly I stepped over the threshold and stared down one side of what had suddenly turned into never-ending hallway... I turned around. Yup, endless that way too. I sighed, trying to figure which way I should go. With the next look back, though, I did not see the same corridor.

My vision became covered with the knives from Freddy's glove. I screamed and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor, my face hurting...burning and wet. I sat up, taking notice that the man was was still standing beside me, displaying his weapon which was dripping crimson.

My own hands found my face and I found myself feeling another gash. A singular one this time and on my cheek. I didn't have to look at my fingers to know that they were now red...I could feel it. I wiped them on my shirt, the black material hid any trace of the color. When I put my attention back on Freddy, he seemed perplexed. I just sat there dumbly until I heard his voice again.

"I recognize that look," he mused, a clawed finger pointing at me.

My brow furrowed in confusion. Did he really understand what I was feeling? I slowly pushed myself up from the floor, keeping him in my sights for fear he'd vanish again. Thankfully, when I made to my feet, he was still there. Thankfully, this wasn't the case. As soon as I was steady, he took steps forward, a wry smile taking over his face.

"You enjoy it, don't ya, little girl?" he chuckled.

"I-" I hesitated. My mind told me what was expected of me...but I couldn't be bothered with that. This was a dream anyway...nobody would know... I could be honest here. "Yes..." I subconsciously started scratching at the top of my thigh through my skirt.

The man's smile grew as he closed in the final bit of space between us. He grabbed my skirt and yanked it up, exposing my panties...and the scars on my thigh where I often cut. "I taught myself to enjoy pain when I was young, but I started killing even younger." He paused both in motion and in speech and it felt as if he were waiting on a reaction from me, but I found his lift on my dress extremely distracting...

"I've never killed anything," I said shyly, my eyes barely staying on him and not my bare legs. "I don't even like eating meat. I don't really want to hurt anyone."

Freddy yanked my skirt harder, almost causing me to fall. His form disappearing again, but immediately reappearing at my side and catching me from losing my balance with one arm wrapping around my shoulder,

"Oh, but that doesn't mean a thing," he laughed and made a gesture between the two of us with his clawed hand, "People like you and me...we'll try and try to fit into society, but in the end," he spun us around to face the other way, "it's not enough. Either they die, or we do. It's as simple as that. There's no morals, no immorality. It's just live or die."

He then removed his glance from me and lifted his claw to point down the hall except it was no longer a hall, it was the local cemetery. I had only been to it once, but I recognized it by the setup. It was a large opening with a perimeter completely encased with trees. Freddy retrieved his arm and began walking down a row of graves in front of us.

I began looking and what I saw...wasn't shocking. Every stone was marked with the name of someone I knew whether family or friend, or what have you. As I looked at each name, a memory I had of each flawed in my vision, reminding me of what they had been before they reached their end.

After traveling a few rows like this, Freddy stopped and turned back to me, "What do you feel?"

"Relief," I answered without a thought, my eyes still gazing across the sea of stones.

Then I thought about my answer. My mother was the one who was crushing me...most of these people... They were all kind. A lot of good people, but... What if they, too, found out who I was... And they hated me. Wanted to change me too. Forced me to be the same as them...

Freddy's chuckle took me from my thoughts and my focus was on him again. "You see?" he said, "You aren't the problem. They are."

"FRANCINE!"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 10/28/2017**

 **Please let me know what you think! And check out my other stories too 3 Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7: Changes

"What?" I had been jarred awake by the sound of my mother's voice and needless to say, that annoyed me...

"Watch your tone! I was just checking on you," she glared. "You shouldn't sleep too long. You won't be able to sleep tonight."

Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and looked over to my rooster. It was already noon? I dangled my feet off the side of the bed and Mom came over to sit down next to me. She reached over and brushed my hair with her hand and forced a smile, but I didn't even attempt to return the gesture. Her smile faded and likewise her hand stopped caressing my head.

She stood up from the bed and walked to the door, "I know you're sad, honey, but you've got to push through and face the day."

"That's funny advice coming from you," I muttered before I even thought about what I was saying.

"Excuse me?" Mom shot around to look at me again, her face red with anger.

All I could do was sit there dumbly while her rage built and she approached, saying nothing as she threw hand, slapping me hard across the face. I didn't move. I just let it happen. I had been taught from a young age that if I were to try and defend myself or dodge blows, that I would only be hit that much more. Instead, I had just grown used to not reacting when someone was trying to hurt me.

The woman shook her head and hastily made her way out of my room, slamming the door behind her. I could tell she wanted to hit me more...I knew that look in her eye, that energy in her stance... but that might leave a mark. Wouldn't want people to think badly of her...especially with kids dropping off like flies...so she just forced herself to leave.

Only then did I touch my face. My hand felt cold next to the stinging sensation that was still on my cheek... Wait. My fingers crawled along my face, trying to find the cut Freddy had just giving me...but there was nothing there. I twisted toward the window. All the dolls were just as I placed them. I was going crazy...

Sighing, I rubbed my face and got up to retrieve a book from the shelf. I sat on the floor, leaning against the side of my bed and began reading, 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.' It was my favorite. I had probably already read it ten or twenty times... I was still feeling groggy from the medicine, but I wasn't going to try and sleep anymore. One, because Mom was right and it would just be difficult would to sleep tonight and two, because I didn't want to be hit or yelled at again. So I sat there reading though my mind was having trouble focusing on the story instead of on Freddy.

"Miss me?" the familiar raspy voice sounded.

My head shot up, but saw nothing. Great. I was devolving rapidly... I looked back down at my book.

"Don't ignore me, bitch," the voice came again.

My head was up again. Nothing. I growled, agitated, and clapped my novel closed. I stood up and looked around...finally spotting the man's reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of my door. Turning to look for his body again and coming up empty, I stepped closer to the mirror...my reflection joining his.

"HAAHAHAHAAH!" he chuckled.

His hands went to rest on my reflection's shoulders and I could feel their weight on me. My head twisted, but I was still alone. I silently watched as he opened his knives and placed them on my neck. Once more, even though he was only in the mirror, I felt the metal scratching my skin. Then, in an abrupt swipe, he slashed his claw across my neck. I jumped, grabbing my throat as, in the glass, I spewed blood from the site.

I stumbled back, falling against the dolls on the table under the window. Two fell onto the floor; one of which cracked apart on impact. As I stared at the split porcelain face beneath me, the demon in my mirror was laughing again.

"Nice trick, huh?" the man grinned.

I walked back to the door, my eyes slit in curiosity. "You're not real."

"Oh," he cooed, "Aren't I?"

"No," I snapped. "If you were, I'd have a cut on my cheek like in my dream. You're just a hallucination."

"Check again, sweetheart," he spat.

Getting close to him again, he scooted to the side, and my reflection reappeared. I leaned in and turned my cheek to inspect. Near my ear, there was a slight mark...a scratch, really.

"I thought..." my voice was a whisper.

"I did more damage?" Freddy finished. "Yes...and it would have shown if it weren't for what you are."

"What I- what do you mean? It showed last time we'll enough," I said.

"Unafraid," he purred, "You're afraid...but not of me. That first time? Yeah. But out of surprise. After getting a sense of me, well... Your feelings changed."

I gazed back at him as he casually picked up my reflection, tossing my body to the side out of the way. "So what do you want?"

"I have had...trouble in the past with keeping a connection to this world. Someone always tends to find a way to remove me... Kids sticking their nose in where they don't belong!" he growled the last statement loudly.

I tilted my head, "What am I supposed to do exactly?"

"Keep your snot-nosed _friends_ from asking too many questions...trying to resist me. Keep my..." he chuckled, "Food supply uninterrupted."

"So you want me to help you kill everyone?" I scoffed. "My friends? Doesn't sound like incentive for me to help you."

"Don't play games with me, bitch. I've been inside your mind," he widened his eyes and pointed a finger at his temple. "I know how you really feel."

There was a brief pause. I recalled the cemetery...the names...my mom's hung corpse... He was right. I didn't care about these people. And life would certainly be easier with less judgemental creeps in the world... Even so...

"You've made your point, but I still deserve something in return," my arms were crossed and eyebrow raised. "What are you going to do for me?"

"Heheheheh..." Freddy poked at a toothy grin with the tip of one of his blades, "I can help you...explore this little...fetish of yours..."

I froze. Fetish? The pain, he meant... "I don't need you for that," I barked unconvincingly.

"Oh really?" he smirked. "And you'll just forget me, then? Just like that?"

I dropped my lip, but couldn't respond. No, I don't think I could easily do that... It wasn't like I was going to try and stop him from doing whatever he was going to do to whomever he was going to do it to so I was no threat to him either way. However...would he just kill me anyway to get me out of the way?

"I know what you're thinking and no," he said, "I'm not going to give your pretty little body a quick end...that would solve your problems too, wouldn't it? Though...you don't really want to die...I've seen your mind, Francine."

That was true...I _had_ wanted to die, but...finally having a true friend- someone who didn't shy away from the real me...someone who understood and even enjoyed my true self... AND the enlightenment that if the problems were removed- those others who judged me- then life was something I wanted to experience...

"Alright," I nodded with decision, "I'll help you."

The smile on the man in the mirror grew into a mischievous beam. He extended his armed hand out toward me, palm up and flicking his claws open. Shutting it again, he curled his index blade in and out a few times, motioning for me to come near. So I did. As I reached the mirror, the picture of the demon popped into a three dimensional form, grabbing my face in his hands and pulling me until our noses touched, his blue eyes fiercely boring into mine...and with his final words, my body was clenching again, heart skipping rapidly in carnal excitement.

"I'm your boyfriend now, Frankie."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 10/29/2017**


	8. Chapter 8: Incision

My breath hinged on those last words. Boyfriend? Not something I ever pictured me having. And it wasn't just because I was weird or what have you. I had never really felt a strong attraction toward anyone. I mean, yeah, sure, I could look at some people and think they were pretty or handsome. I think I'd agreed that someone was sexy before, even, but without actually wanting to have sex with them. In a romantic sense anyway. I'd of course been curious about having sex; What it felt like and all. Hence learning to masturbate... There had only never been a pursuit of intimacy on my part. I couldn't recall ever feeling the desire for a strong emotional attachment and I had certainly not ever become wet or lustful looking at or knowing another person.

I remembered that I had been asked out once by a guy who was a sort of friend. I knew him anyway. We seemed to stay on and off with how much we actually talked to each other over the years even though we went to the same school. I was a couple years younger then and Mom had refused to let me go out. I can't remember what she _said_ her reason was, but obviously it was a bit of control on her part. She had always bashed the idea of underage dating; the younger they were, the more unacceptable it was. She'd gone as far as put the kids themselves down instead of the parents that allowed it. Anyway, I never went on the date and was never asked out by another person. I guess it really didn't matter though. Like I said, I wasn't attracted to the guy, I only wanted to have the experience and try to have some fun.

However, standing here staring into this creature's eyes as he held a tight grip on my throat, fingers digging into it and making it hard to breathe... my loner self felt a new kind of longing. I wanted his presence. I didn't feel anxious when he was around- didn't want him to keep or distance and my mind wasn't scrambling to come up with a reason for either of us to leave. I wished for more time spent with him and yes, I even wanted to have sex with- No... I wanted him to fuck me.

Freddy had jumped out of the mirror and pinned me against the shelf just a few steps away where my dolls normally collected. Hand on my throat and a knee between my legs, he had slid his bladed hand beneath my shirt and was gently scraping the metal against my skin with a low purr. The touch of the blades against the previous wounds was an interesting sensation that had me wet. It burned to have them pricking at the torn flesh and at the same time, the metal was cold.

Only seconds, maybe a minute, had passed, but it seemed so much longer. And Freddy hadn't done anything more to me. He just stared and scraped his blades under my shirt, up and down my small chest. I found myself lost in his eyes...everything else was a fuzz like time had ended altogether and we were in some sort of suspended animation. I didn't speak or move. Did absolutely nothing because I couldn't. In my mind, though, I was l begging for his knives to tear into my skin...to see his crooked smile relishing in my pain as my blood covered him...his face coming close to the wounds and lapping the precious crimson from my body's crevices...

Suddenly, he was chuckling again and his hold on my throat tightened even more. I choked on the last breath I had been taking and gasped when I realized I couldn't take in anymore air... His grip was too strong. I was unable to fight back the instinct to move. Although, instead of fighting him...trying to push him off or make an attack of my own.. I simply grabbed the wall to my side with one hand and clasped my other around the edge of the shelf behind me. When I did, Freddy pushed his body even closer to mind, the force making me choke again. I could feel his stomach against mine...his knee digging so well into my crotch that he must have felt my moisture there.

I emitted a pitiful moan which caused his lips to part further and show his dirty teeth well. He gave another squeeze to my airway and my vision started fading in and out. Everything was blurry and my head was beginning to hurt. I could hear him chuckling, but the sight of him was lessening. It scared me. Not the lack of oxygen or the attack or even looming death...it was the idea that I'd close my eyes or lose my sight and he wouldn't be there anymore. My heart rate picked up as I began going numb. I could just barely feel his hand on me and the pressure of his body against mine was vanishing. However, just as I thought everything would become nothing and I'd lose his sweet sadism, all force left me.

My hands left my sides and grabbed hold of my chest and neck when my body fell down to the floor. My eyes were still blurry, yet the outline of a man standing above me was still there. I did my best to keep my head lifted, eyes aimed at him even though it was difficult at first. Slowly, my senses began returning as I remained on the ground heaving for air. My fingers, hands, toes, and feet were all tingly. My head felt like what people described a hangover to be and my chest was strained as if between vice grips. When Freddy's body gradually became normal again, I gazed up at him with what had to be a puppy dog face.

Grinning, he straightened his claws and placed them on top of my head, his groin directly in front of my face when he furled his blades, scratching my scalp and pulling my hair. I inhaled sharply and loudly. When I tried to look up at his face again, he tugged my hair to force my head straight and pushing my face into him... I could feel he was hard beneath his pants. I had never touched a man. Or a woman for that matter... I barely knew the what the appearance of nakedness was.

"What are you doing in here?!"

My eyes shot open suddenly and I realized that my mother had barged in again and was standing in the doorway staring at me. Freddy was nowhere in sight and I was sitting on the floor, hands and knees, looking up at my mom. "I-uh-" I stammered, pushing myself from the ground onto my knees and then back onto my butt, resting back against the shelf. "I fell..." was my answer as I swallowed so hard I was sure the gulp was audible, "Just hit my back...sorry..."

Mom seemed worried...or maybe she was not amused. I honestly couldn't tell and my mind was on the awkwardness of this encounter though she couldn't possibly know what I had been doing. She stood there a moment as if confused. She wrung her hands a couple of times in front of her before dropping them back to her side. What the hell was she thinking about? Her expression was quizzical, making it hard to tell if that was agitation or sadness I saw in her eyes. Was she wanting to say something or wanting me to speak? Perhaps she was waiting me to apologize for my earlier indiscretion. Undecided on what to do, and obviously not wanting to be forced to say I was sorry when _she_ was the one who lost her temper and hit me, I simply cleared my throat loudly to stall.

"Are you alright?" she finally asked with an odd inflection

I nodded, breathing in.

"Well it's a bit past one...Why don't the two of us go out and get something to eat? I think we both could use a treat," she said with that usual plastic smile of hers.

I returned the grin nervously while I made it to my feet. My mind still wasn't really on her, but on my new friend, Freddy. Friend? Hm...boyfriend? The one person I had ever truly connected to...was some kind of evil dream demon. Though honestly...he didn't seem so bad. Sometimes violence wasn't a bad thing and death was part of life, right? ...was I evil too?

" _Francine,_ " Mother growled, annoyed when I took too long to answer.

"I'm sorry...Mom... I kind of zoned out, I guess," I gave the same fake grin. "Dinner out sounds good."

"I know you must have a lot on your mind," she had cocked her head to the side, "We can talk about over dinner."

"Ok, thanks, Mom," I replied, incredibly ungrateful. I always dithered about whether these sorts of things were sincere concern or she was just curious about what I was thinking...doing...so that she could better maintain authority over me. It might have been different if she ever just said she was there for me or phrased it as if I had a choice in the matter, but instead, she always made it seem like an order rather than a friendly gesture.

"Well," the woman patted her legs and turned to go out the door. "Make sure you're clean and ready and we'll leave," she looked back for a second to add, "Definitely do something with your hair...looks like you've just gotten out of bed."

My hair? I blinked nervously at her words, but I didn't act until she was once more out of sight. I pushed the door further close again and looked in the mirror. I half-expected Freddy to be there and the other half was certain he wouldn't be as my mind was trying to cast doubt over me again...trying to use its 'evolved' logic. Assessing myself in the glass, I saw she was right. My hair was completely untamed and sloppy. Was this what people meant by sex hair?

I found myself laughing slightly at the thought, then, sighing, I put myself back in order. There weren't any marks on my throat although it felt sore both inside and out. I wondered if bruises might appear later. I found myself a new sweater of a dark red color. Another shade that would hide if my injuries decided to bleed again. With that thought, I lifted the cardigan and smiled fondly at the marks there... _HIS_ marks...

That moment was the first time in my life that I had ever giggled like a love struck little girl and I suppose that's what I was now. An odd sort of love, but a love nonetheless. I didn't want to go... to remove myself from the environment most likely to bring Freddy back to me, but I knew I had to get ready. I must uphold appearances. It was something I always hated, yet now, somehow, I felt it would be easier to do so... Besides, I was feeling pretty hungry. I guess my body was craving more nutrients after all the...excitement.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015  
Chapter rewritten 10/29/2017**


	9. Chapter 9: Keeping Up Appearances

Even though it would have only taken us maybe ten minutes to walk to the diner, Mom drove us. She had always insisted that you never knew when something would come up and you'd need you car. She said if you were out later than expected and was either too tired to walk or felt unsafe, then you'd wish you'd had brought your vehicle. Also there was a chance of emergency or a change in plans that made you want to go to other places while you were out. My feeling was that ten minutes was ten minutes. Nothing really unsafe about such a short distance. It would be simply just to walk it even in the event one of those things came up. Even so, I had learned not to argue with her and just go along with whatever. If I didn't, it was usually considered 'back-talk' and deserving of a verbal or physical lashing...or both.

We took our usual spot in the cafe. My mom had a penchant for going out or taking small weekend vacations to get her mind off things. She'd always take me with her. Thinking about it, I realized she didn't really have any friends either. I don't think these little escapes ever worked though and often she'd only end up complaining about finances. It was something I pointed out to her once is that if she was so concerned with money, that not running out all the time and spending money like that would help. And yes, I was yelled out, shoved against a wall, and grounded for weeks.

I looked around the restuarant and saw several other students there. Nobody I knew too well, but I recognized their faces. I guess Phil and I weren't the only ones playing hookey. In light of circumstances, most of the parents in Springwood had become clingy. Even some of the teachers had become lax and gave us more leeway. Of course, a few kids took advantage and there was that one bitter professor who constantly complained that there was shit happening in the world all the time and it wasn't helping anyone to baby children when something did go wrong. I had actually kind of agreed with him. Wouldn't say it though. Everyone at school fucking hated the guy. I put my attention back on the menu in front of me and scanned it with my eyes, even though I already knew what I was going to order.

"I think I might actually get a burger today," Mom stated absentmindedly not removing her gaze from the plastic covered paper in her hands.

"Sounds good," I said, then prompted, "And a milkshake?"

She looked up at me then, lips pursing in thought before shaking her head, "No... No, that would be too much."

I stared at her as she put the menu down in front of her and reached for her glass of water. She had grown quite thin over the last several months. I hardly saw her eat anymore even when we were out like this, she often just picked at her food. She'd told me in the past that when she was upset, her appetite would disappear. I, on the other hand, was constantly hungry. Mom had even put me on diets to make sure I didn't gain weight or so that I lost weight after gaining a few pounds. For the longest, I believed that I was fat. Fortunately however, I started studying myself and others. Percentages and polls of people and their weight and even BMI. It all taught me that I had never peaked higher than six or seven pounds overweight. It still didn't satisfy Mom...

"Aw come on. You're so small, you can afford the extra calories," I told her in a thick voice.

What I said was true, but I hated complimenting her on something she put me down for. I was thin too. I had always been yet I'd never heard her tell me I was as she berated me endlessly about my size. Her reaction told me that my forced kindness had served its purpose. She grinned, reaching her hand up to her cheek and mumbling _aw_. As fake as I was being, the response was satisfactory. Staving off the beast... In the past, I had always thought my mom and I were close. It wasn't until I started getting older and really understanding the things I liked and the things I was, that I realized that the only reason our relationship had been so good was due to the fact that I was young...incapable of very much independent thought. As a child, you tend to take to heart whatever your guardians say. If they said something was true, it was and if they said something was dangerous, you stayed away. Generally speaking, of course.

It isn't until a person begins adolescence that they really start to bloom into an individual. At that point, we start seeing our parent's flaws...the flaws in other adults and realizing that the world is scare because people judge you, not because they have guns and grimaces. I felt that everyone deserved to be accepted and appreciated as an individual. As unique from others in their own ways. However...it seemed that everyone agreed with my mother to a point that who I was on the inside was not who I should be. That I wasn't worthy of appreciation. So I had started to believe that I was truly despicable. There was some sort of fatal fault in my code that made my very existence undeserving.

But Freddy didn't feel that way...

"What can I get ya?" the waitress had appeared while I was lost in thought.

"I'd like a cheeseburger and fries," Mom said.

"I'll take a chicken strip dinner," I stated softly.

"Coming right up," the woman grinned, jotting the note and taking our menus back before scurrying away.

"Did I miss anything on the news this morning?" I asked my mom.

She paused a moment, then answered, "Nothing important, dear."

I couldn't tell if that was true. If she was shielding me, herself, or simply our views on what was important were different. In any case, I just accepted the answer. I wasn't going to prod and risk more anger and aggravation on both our parts.

"What about Phil? How is he holding up?" she inquired, resting eyes on my that didn't really seem too interested.

"Um..." my thoughts instantly flashed back to the kiss with Amy's grieving boyfriend that morning...the awkward moment afterwards... "About as good as can be expected, I guess."

"Poor thing," Mom said softly, her eyes glancing downward at the hands she was rubbing together.

Our conversation hit a lull. It was obvious neither one of us had anything to say to the other or else, nothing not antagonistic... And it seemed to take longer than normal for the food to be ready. Amy had actually worked at the diner for awhile. She said that everything came frozen so all that was necessary was to throw the stuff on the grill or in the microwave and heat it up, then toss it on a plate. Even the milkshakes were pre-made. A package of powder that you added milk too and blended. Not much preparation for anything on the menu. No doubt it was just the tension between my mom and I as well as that of those around us. Everyone stayed preoccupied these days...

Once again I was thinking about Freddy. This time I decided to talk about him...see if Mom knew anything about my new boyfriend so I could learn without having to converse with him directly. Of course, I would have much preferred to just talk with him, but it wasn't feasible at that moment. Besides, I wanted to know if anyone who was a hundred percent, concretely not in my mind had any inkling of such a creature. "Mom...do you remember if there was a murderer here in Springwood some years back?"

"Uh," she set her water back on the table and then gave a vague reply, "I would imagine that there would have been at least a handful of murders in any town over the years."

That wasn't satisfying at all. "Oh... I was thinking about something...more recent? Maybe someone named Freddy?"

Her body stilled...her eyes displayed shock as they stared back at me, "That's oddly specific...why do you ask?"

"It's just..." I squirmed in my seat, "Phil said when he saw Amy...he said that someone had carved the name 'Freddy' into her back."

The woman sighed, "That's awful, but I don't...your friend is under a lot of stress, hun."

She knew something. She was shying away from the topic. My survival instincts told me to leave it be yet my burning desire to know what she didn't want to tell me and prove my sanity or insanity overrode them. "It's just oddly specific..." I casually threw her own words back at her.

Mom took in a breath, closing her eyes briefly before settling them upon me again, "There was a man named Fred Krueger who lived in Springwood several decades ago..." she paused, "But he's been dead for a really long time. _IF_ Phil did see that, I quite doubt there is any correlation."

I scowled at the insinuation that Phil was crazy or a liar, but kept on without acknowledging it, "Who did he kill?"

Another pause followed by another sigh. "They called him the Springwood Slasher and...he kidnapped numerous children and murdered them... Some say he molested them as well."

A child molester? Freddy? I should probably feel disgusted by that...or at the very least creeped out, but... "What happened to him?"

Mom sat up, clearing her throat and keeping a hushed tone, "He was burned to death by several of the parents after he wasn't able to be charged on a technicality... Your grandmother was friends of some of those people... That all happened during her time."

"Gramma lived here in Springwood?" I was enthralled with the story.

"Yes, she moved away just before I was born," she replied. "Your father and I grew up hearing ghost stories about Freddy returning from the dead... Crazy stuff," she laughed then. "He's been a sort of ghost story over the years, the legends coming and going. I suppose it's possible whoever it is that is causing all this trouble knows the old stories and are playing some sort of sick game, but otherwise... If you hear anything, Freddy is just that- a story. He's dead and gone so don't get your head filled with a silly fantasy," she pointed a warning finger at me then, "I know you like to let your imagination get the best of you."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015  
Chapter rewritten 10/29/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions, my fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10: A SOft Moment

After finishing up at the diner, we headed home and vegged out on the couch in front of the TV. We had carried the strained dialogue over the meal back to the house where the atmosphere was equally uncomfortable. I kept trying to retreat to my room yet each time, Mom seemed to find a way to make me stay. Either by asking questions or complaining about the most mundane of things or basically pouting at the suggestion of me leaving. If it were anyone else, I would let them have their pity party while I did whatever the fuck I wanted to do, but with Mom...I couldn't. Not for any noble reason or caring attachment either. Once again, it was simply a matter of placating her to make my life a bit less miserable.

I hadn't learned anything other about Freddy Krueger except that he wasn't exactly a favorite topic of the older residents of the town nor the police... Apparently, there had been several murders, vandalism, and other acts of terrorism over the years that had been blamed on Krueger. Ghost stories, like my mom said. People blaming bad things that happened on superstition and criminals using the fear of the boogeyman against their victims. That was the most logical explanation for a lot of things that had transpired, but some of the things...it seemed that there was more to...

Freddy had told me that in the past he had had trouble keeping a connection with this world so that meant that this wasn't the first time he surfaced as a murderous dream demon. No, with everything that had happened, that I had learned now, there was no denying it. He _was_ real...and he was invoking my help...

The evening dragged on. I wasn't the type to take enjoyment in just sitting and staring at a screen, so I had attempted to figure something else out to do downstairs so my mom didn't whine and I wasn't totally bored, but the idea of baking, drawing, reading...nothing seemed interesting to me and I could read a good book a thousand times and not get tired of it. I found myself becoming entirely obsessed with Freddy... No matter what I did to distract myself, my mind kept returning to him. What was he doing when he wasn't stalking someone's dreams? Could he come into the real world any time or were there rules he had to follow? I was desperately curious of his powers and even more desperate to be in his presence again...

When the clock struck seven, I couldn't hold out any longer. I told mom that I had gotten a book from the library and needed to finish it before I had to return it. It wasn't a lie, really, though I guess an exaggeration of the urgency as I had only checked the book out a couple of days ago. By that time, her neediness had lessened and she didn't protest my departure.

Once I was in my room with door closed, I went to my book bag and shuffled through its contents, until I held a thick paperback in my hands. I had recently found a fantasy author who wrote a lot about vampires, demons, and other dark creatures and the stories I'd read so far were awesome. I didn't really elaborate on the books I read with Mom. It was the one aspect that I had a good amount of free reign in since she didn't like to read and therefore I could blatantly disobey her orders on what was appropriate and enjoy something without much worry for once.

I took the novel and sat on my bed, flipping to the fourth chapter where I had left off, but I couldn't focus on reading. I kept looking up and around the room, waiting for Freddy to reappear. I shifted a few times to get in a position that I could more easily fall asleep in without making it look purposefully in case Mom happened by and wanted to bitch. I began with leaning against the headboard, tilting my head backward to rest on the wall. Then I ended up laying down on my stomach with my book in front of me and let my head drop onto the crisp pages below. After a period of too long, Freddy's cackle sounded.

"What ya reading, Frankie?"

The sudden break in silence startled me for a moment, then my heart skipped a beat. "Nothing," I answered softly as I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees to get back into a stance better suited for conversation.

However, it seemed that Freddy favored the one I was already in. Just as I rose from the bed, he was on top of my back, shoving me down again. My body bounced on the mattress, hitting hard against his front since he had lowered himself even further when I fell. I found myself, abdomen flat, caught in a tiny space between the bed and Freddy. His legs were bent with knees on either side of my hips while his feet forced my legs to stay closed and straight beneath him. His hands grabbed onto mine as they had before, except this time they yanked them, directing their path to my sides to stay flat next to my form. I didn't fight it and was soon in a planked posture.

His hands then found my shoulders and put an insane amount of pressure on them, his knives on my right pressed so hard that I thought they would cut into me even through my sweater. He lowered his head next to mine, chin poking the top of my shoulder and my neck as he spoke.

"Then quit wasting your time with it," he growled into my ear, his warm breath tickled and chilled me.

Eyes that had been cut backward trying to look at him, shot forward to the papers in front of me as they came alight with flame. I jumped or at least I tried to because of how close to the fire was to my face. I could feel the flames lapping at my cheek. I struggled to get away from the danger, but Freddy had me firmly in place. I felt myself panicking as the intensity of the heat grew.

"Ahahhahahahahaha!" my boyfriend laughed maniacally and suddenly the fire was gone, leaving a charred book behind.

"SHIT, FREDDY, THAT'S NOT MY BOOK!" it sounded stupid to say and I don't mean to. It was just the first thing that popped out of my mouth.

Freddy was no longer on top of me, allowing me to break out of the submissive position I had been in and floundered backward, sitting on with my back once more against the bed's headboard, hugging my knees against my heaving chest. I just sat there, mouth agape, staring at the destroyed book. The brief experience had been terrifying in the moment, but thinking back upon it, thrilling... I was, however, concerned with how I was going to explain this to the librarian...

"Lighten, up, _sweetheart,_ " the man's voice called sarcastically.

I twisted to the side; We weren't in my room anymore. All around me were metal structures- levels, stairs...leaky pipes. There was a faint red light casting eerie shadows in the new place. I had fallen asleep... I slowly removed myself from bed and took a few steps. One small glance away was all it took for the last remnants of my room to vanish.

I spotted the burned man's silhouette at the other side of an ascending stairwell. He was watching me, "Time to pay up, princess."

I stopped when he spoke. Pay up? "What do you need?" I asked.

"Your friend, Phillip, has been causing problems. He's started snooping around... Encouraging kids to fight me," Freddy explained.

"Phil?" I breathed.

"Mm... Quite a lucid dreamer, that one," the demon mused.

Phil hadn't said anything to me about having nightmares... When would Freddy have visited him? Today? I knew he'd urged others to try and control their dreams. He said that whether they were real or not, it would help everyone to combat negativity in their mind. It would keep them in better spirits at the very least.

"How am I supposed to get him to put his guard down?" I whined, "Phil's not the type to give up easily...or at all."

"Ha! I can kill him easily enough," Freddy scoffed. "I just need you to make sure he stays in his dream next time... And use his death to erase whatever hope he has brought."

"OK..." I breathed, "I'll do my best."

An evil beam spread across Freddy's face, "Good girl," he purred.

"Freddy," I began, "Were you alone when you were alive too?"

Freddy took a few steps closer to me, snarling, "I'm not one for pleasantries, little girl."

The fluctuation in my comfort level then had to have shown because the look in his eyes shifted. I shouldn't have been surprised that he was the small or personal talk kind of guy, but even so, the anger and stone walling was hard not to take offensively. I didn't know the man well enough to judge him so I wasn't aware of he ended up answering my question out of kindness or something else...

"But yes, I was," his voice had changed from hostile to cold. "I had a friend once, I think, but the bastard stopped talking to me after he saw me kill the classroom's pet hamster."

That story took an odd turn... "Why did you kill the hamster?"

Freddy's head shot straight to the side and he snapped at me, "I had to. I needed to. It was an ache building inside me only relieved when I tortured and slaughtered..."

My brow furrowed, trying to understand him, "I've though about hurting people before... Even murdering them, but... I don't know if I could kill something just to kill it...just to feel good."

The man glared at me and growled, "Yet you expect someone to hurt you just so you can feel good."

"That's not-" I shied away, "It's not the same thing. It's mutual..."

"It's not about feeling good," he continued. "It's about survival. Physical and mental..." he paused for a moment, everything had somehow become somber. But the mood was reverted when he threw his arms into the air beside him, claw extending and a smirk reaching him as his laugh echoed in the steel room, "And we're about to see if you have what it takes to survive!"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 10/29/2017**

 **Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11: Let Your Darkness Shine

I had woken up briefly between Freddy's order for me regarding Phil and the final sleep for that night. Mom had come into my room and shaken me awake by the shoulders. My first thought when I saw her was that she was going to complain for my being asleep again, but instead she just coaxed me into a proper position for slumber- rotating myself to where my head was on the pillow and the rest of me was under the covers. She had taken my book (which was resting with me, unharmed) and placed it on my nightstand before saying 'goodnight' and switching my light off as she left.

It took me several minutes to get back to sleep, which was annoying, but soon I was in the dream world once more. This time things seemed different. It felt like it did back before Freddy... when I could control my dreams yet everything still felt as real as it did when Freddy was around. It was a confusing mixture that at first made me wonder if I was dreaming at all. I was in my current house, laying in bed. It was a horrid moment where I thought I had fallen back asleep to wake up the next morning without having dreamt at all. As I fell deeper into my new situation, however, I realized that it was only the change in who had power over these mental images that had made me doubt. Then, if I was the one in charge...was Freddy even here?

"I want to see what ya got, kid." Freddy's voice echoed suddenly.

I had already left my bed and was walking around when I heard him. I turned around to face my window; Freddy wasn't in the room. The curtain was still closed as it was when I had gone to sleep so I stepped over and drew it. Outside was my plain yard in Springwood, under cover of nightfall. Its lone tree seemed to draw my focus as if someone was hiding behind it, watching me. I glanced back at my bedroom door, then to the window again. I felt in control, but if Freddy was here... I took a deep breath as I unlatched the window and pulled the pane up. Either way, it was _my_ dream, right? I should be able to...

Reaching my head out of the opening, I pulled up my legs to rest my feet on the sill of the frame and studying my destination. With a only a short amount of contemplation longer, I jumped from the house and let my body float carefully down to the ground, my bare feet lightly touching the tips of the wet grass first, then settling into them fully as I stood strong, eyes on that tree. Brilliant.

Strength found at the rediscovery of my power within my own dreams, I approached the tree with confidence and slowly circled its perimeter, ready for a fight should one be waiting for me. However, I found no one and nothing around the oak. Hm. Ok. As my eyes scanned the rest of the neighborhood around me, I absentmindedly reached a hand out to rest on the tree. But no rough bark greeted the touch. Instead, something sticky and slimey gave in and I found my entire hand and forearm immediately thick into the substance.

My head shot toward my side as I tugged as hard as I could against this odd restraint. It was no use though. The goo had a firm hold on me that only seemed to strengthen with my struggle. It was at first hard to see in the dim light, but the more I stared at the stuff, I saw that it was pink, almost like chewed bubblegum...and there were black objects stuck in it. They were...just random debris at first, then they seemed to take the shape of bones and...body parts? There were severed fingers, eyes, a nose... Whatever the shit was, it was pulling me in farther. My shoulder was almost touching the tree, against my will.

Wait. A dream. I could... Gaze shooting up and down the tree, the only thing I could think of was a chainsaw. My mind tried to focus, change my captured arm into a revving chain of mini-blades to kill my attacker from the inside. It wasn't as easy as it should have been. I guess because I was already stressing. Even so, I eventually willed it to happen and watched as the pink substance with its black pieces and various body parts began to twist and fly everywhere as if in an open blender that had been turned on. A giant gush of blood also accompanied the destruction.

I was soon freed, leaving myself intact, although bloodied and sticky. My hand had morphed back to normal and the tree before me was gutted...literally. It was as if it hadn't been a plant at all but instead some sort of animal in disguise. I stepped backward from a bloody mess of tissue, organs, and bone, all inside the shell of a large oak.

Before I could even shift my thoughts to anything except the attack, I felt warm breath on my neck. I jumped, spinning in the air to see that Freddy had crept up behind me, instantly laughing as my eyes laid upon him, "Not bad, little girl," he purred.

My heart was beating rapidly from the rapid succession of scares, but I didn't wait for it to fully settle again before I spoke, "What is this? I mean, what are you doing?"

"Me?" the charred man grinned, placing a bladed hand on his chest, "I'm not doing anything. I'm just seeing what you're doing."

My eyes flicked from his to the claws displayed on his chest. Those blades...just the thought of them made me squirm... I shook my head from the thought. _I want to see what you got, kid._ I recalled the words. He wanted to know how well I could manipulate a dream. "I used to be plagued with nightmares," I started, "I did a lot of studying and practice to be able to change them."

"Hm..." his blades were scratching his chin, "Then you're a few years ahead of your friend."

My brow furrowed. Phil? I heard a loud clanging sound behind me and turned around to see that we were in front of Phillip's home. The lights were still on downstairs and I could hear angry voices. His parents were fighting... I stood there in the cold night, watching as suddenly the front door swung open and the boy walked outside. He was wearing a tshirt and boxers, which I thought was strange, but then wondered if maybe it was just the clothes he was sleeping in...

I tensed as my friend stopped on the sidewalk and looked over in my direction. Shit. But he didn't acknowledge me. He squinted like he was straining to see, then he only twisted his neck and gazed elsewhere in the night. He couldn't he see me? I felt Freddy's hand on my shoulder and heard the metal clinking next to my ear as I turned slightly to see him out of the corner of my vision. He had pressed his body snug against mine and I could feel his inviting form exciting me.

"Hiding yourself in plain sight is difficult for even experienced dreamers," he said, "Not for me. When you want to be seen, you can pull out of my shield. In the meantime..." he smirked, "I'm curious as to what you'll do."

I looked back at Phil, trying to focus on him instead of Freddy's body against mine. It was a powerful position he held over me- his holding me from behind, armed and calm with blades resting beside my neck. And I realized it was more than pain that excited me...it was dominance. Namely his over me. He could easily end me. He controlled me. And I loved it. My heart began flying in my chest again and even though I saw Phil there, I didn't see him at the same time. I could only picture Freddy exerting himself over me, taking away my will and giving me joyful pain. With these thoughts, the mere feeling of our clothed bodies together put butterflies in my stomach and sent chills up my spine and down my arms.

"You're not getting cold feet, are ya?" he had leaned close, chuckling in my ear, the words jarring me from detailed fantasies.

"I-" his voice had thrown me off, "I don't know what to do," my voice was little more than a squeak.

Freddy put his bare hand on my other shoulder then and squeezed both, using them to turn me around to look at him. A wild grin stretched across his face, "Have fun," he purred with a push that sent me almost toppling to the the ground.

He disappeared then and left me alone in my friend's yard. I picked myself up and brushed off my clothes, putting Phil back in my sites just as he began walking further down the sidewalk and to the street. Have fun? What was the point in that? Freddy was supposed to kill Phillip himself. I had only been there to ensure he didn't get others to rebel. Maybe he was testing me... Seeing how loyal to our agreement I was... or judging if I was a possible threat? Either way, I knew he wanted me to hurt Phil... Could I do that?

I started walking, getting pretty close to my friend. He didn't appear frightened. He seemed to be deep in thought. Still partly afraid that he would see me, I hesitated to get any closer. But...I needed to see his eyes. Was it really even him? If I was in control again...maybe this Phil was just another part of my mind... Cautiously, I crept closer, waiting for the boy to turn his head my way again. And when he did, I was certain. It had to be him. In all my dreams and nightmares...my brain wasn't capable of recreating that light inside of him. No, the actual Phil from reality was in my dream.

So how would I prove myself to Freddy?

My friend began trekking down the damp street, being careful to maintain a close watch on his surroundings. Every so often, he would even turn behind and look, eyes peering straight through me. Each time I felt I'd been discovered yet each time, he'd only stare blankly before keeping on his journey.

As we walked, the scene gradually changed from the neighborhood to a part of the town park that I had never been to before though I'd heard of it: Lover's Lane. I only had a vague idea of what it looked like, but apparently I had done well enough with recreating it. Phillip was no longer standing in front of me, but he was sitting in the driver's seat of his worn down Pontiac. Beside him, in the passenger's seat, was Amy. I watched as Phil's eyes lit up and became soft and glossy with tears as they gazed back into his girlfriend's.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered.

Amy smiled and laughed, "I'm right here with you, baby."

The boy reached up, cupping her face in his hands and leaning in to kiss her. The ghost and Phil embraced each other in a passionate kiss and even though I knew I had initiated this sequence by calling upon a memory of the girl's liking, I was almost embarrassed watching the two. I started pushing with my mind for the surroundings to change, but I find it hard to do. I was stuck on the sight of the lovers kissing and how what I wanted to happen would crush my friend's spirit...but no, he wasn't my friend. Freddy was the only person who knew me and let me be myself.

Recalling all my anger and frustration...using those suppressed feelings, I changed the park and the car into a room...Amy's room. It was incredibly dark and the walls were decaying before us.

"PHIL!" Amy appeared on her bed, writhing and screaming, "PHIL!"

"AMY? AMY!" Phil's voice was in desperate agony. He was caught behind huge iron bars, keeping him from reaching his distressed love.

"Phil..." the girl's cry had become a soft cry, unseen pain plaguing her body, making her bleed without any signs of wounds.

Suddenly, blood was splattered across the room. Amy was now making unintelligible moans and screams of agony as claw marks appeared having ripped through her nightgown and into her flesh. Then, she was gurgling as her throat was cut by an unseen claw. Blood flowed in lumps out of her mouth and onto her already blood stained gown and body as her eyes rolled back in her head to show only whites.

"AMY!" Phil had sunken down to the floor, holding onto the bars with one hand while the other made a futile attempt to reach Amy through the steel.

"AAAAHHHHAAAAAHHHAHAHHAAH HAH!" Freddy's laughter sounded, his already dirty clothing drenched with fresh blood, his blades dripping crimson as he appeared standing atop Amy's now motionless and mangled body.

"YOU BASTARD!" Phil screamed, lunging at Freddy.

For a moment, I was afraid Freddy would get hurt but that irrational thought only lasted a moment as he instead allowed Phil to fall straight through him and down a flight of stairs that he had just created. I ran over to stand beside Freddy and watched as Phil tumbled down the winding staircase and landed on concrete below.

"AAHHAHAHAHHAAAAHHAH HAAH!" Freddy was laughing again.

And instead of looking down at my old friend and wondering if he was alright...for the first time...I just did what was natural rather than worrying about what was expected of me.

I laughed.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/1/2017**


	12. Chapter 12: I Won't Hide

When I awoke the next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise. Sighing, I sat up in bed, slung my legs over the side and stood. I stretched before heading off to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I turned the water on to run hot while I took off the clothes I had fallen asleep in and looked at my naked body in the mirror.

The wounds on my chest and stomach from Freddy's claw were still there although they were showing the first signs of healing. It saddened me to think they'd soon be less obvious yet it was comforting to know I'd have the scars always. And more than that, I'd receive more marks from Freddy to relish...

The last night's intrusion with my boyfriend upon my friend had really helped me to 'break out of my shell' so to speak. Instead of letting myself be ruled by the expectations placed upon me by everyone from my mom to my classmates to society, I allowed myself to just simply do what I felt- what I wanted to do- without worry of their prying eyes and demeaning natures bringing me down.

The mirror started to fog as I stared. Steam from the shower had already begun to fill the room, heating and blurring it. As I stepped under the soft, cascading water, I felt free...happy...something I hadn't truly felt...not since I was a kid and didn't 'know any better.' And all of this...because of Freddy Krueger. I thought of the charred man, standing there in his tattered sweater and his dirty slacks, his old hat creating an ominous shadow over his face, and his arms crossed, gloved hand risen high, blades dripping sweet crimson. He smiled his evil grin, his decaying teeth held no horror for me...

I had been standing beneath the water for quite some time lost in thought. But I hadn't even started to bathe. Suddenly, I was worried that I might be late for school, so I rushed my normal cleansing ritual, quickly dried my hair and headed for my room. I skipped quickly through the hall, my body covered only by the towel. I made sure the bedroom door was shut and latched before I began looking for new clothes. But first with a glance to my clock. I was still on time so I stopped rushing.

And as I did, annoyance took over happiness. The only reason I ever was afraid of being late was the chance I should incur the wrath of my mother. My mom, who did her best to appear the end all of perfection as well as the true victim, never ceased to force me into being exactly how she perceived herself to be. And if I should fall short in the slightest, she would do anything from slapping me around and yelling to throwing away my books or making me eat from the trash. I had grown up with such an encompassing fear of her that I still had trouble with the idea of sharing anything about how she was behind the scenes with others. They wouldn't believe me. Her facade was too strong, a grip I didn't have. Besides, I had played into it for so long, people would think I was the liar by that account as well if I came forward... A liar or a loon...

Thinking about it all made me slip into an anger. I still had next year before I turned eighteen with half of this year still to finish. My feelings of fury clashed with the feeling of depression creeping upon me and I let the latter take over. Only on my eighteenth birthday could I escape her and begin to live on my own accord but...how could I afford myself? Jobs were hard to get and I had no experience. And I knew the moment I left home, I'd be seen as the bad guy... No doubt my mom would play that up. Feeling hopeless again, I sunk to the floor and with knees bent to my face, I wept.

Suddenly, I felt something cold on my face. I gasped, my head shooting up afraid of having to explain why I was sitting there cold, naked, and crying. But as I looked to the source of this feeling, I saw Freddy kneeling in front of me, a singular blade from his glove catching a tear from my cheek.

"You shouldn't waste such sorrow," he growled softly.

I looked back into his fierce blue eyes, confused at his words, but comforted at his presence. "What do you mean?" I sniffled as he withdrew his claw from my face, settling back into an 'Indian' style position. I grabbed the towel at my chest and let my legs fall to the side so I was sitting normally as well.

"I mean that sorrow shouldn't be wasted on such a beautiful creature. Those others should be sad," he explained, then pointed a blade at me and finished, "Not you."

"Well," I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand, my tears stopping, "I'm not pretty for one thing."

Freddy growled, his lips snarling as he lifted himself and used that one extended blade to swipe against my face, giving me a fresh cut. Now squatting in front of me with forehead against mine and eyes boring into me, he growled, "I didn't say you were pretty. What I have seen of you is something others have not. Something of worth...something useful."

His words were sweet and for some reason they seemed both out of place and genuine at the same time. My hand was on my face, fingers getting covered with my blood as they felt around and in the torn skin. I gazed back into his eyes, studying him. I wanted to say what I was thinking, but was unsure how to go about it. So instead...I just stared.

"You didn't finish what you were going to say," he finally spoke, catching me off-guard.

I shook my head to bring myself out of my thoughts, "Oh. Um..."

"You don't like what I said?" he continued rather roughly, tapping his foot and crossing his arms, his claw perfectly exposed between us.

"It's not that!" I spat, standing up myself, almost falling out of my towel.

He cocked his head to the side, grinning at my mishap and jutting his blades forward. Their sharp points caught on my towel and yanked it from me, twirling me off balance so that I ended up on the floor again, clutching my thighs together to hide and crossing my arms to hide my intimate parts.

"I just..." I started weakly under the weight of his gaze on my naked body.

"Francine," he grinned, "Don't lie to me."

The threat, I felt, would have generally came with a menacing action of some sort. A curled fist or a swipe of his blades, but instead...he stayed there perfectly still. It made me wonder if he knew his withdrawing from me would hurt me and any physical pain would only give me pleasure. Either way, the scenario was arousing regardless of my not being quite comfortable being completely exposed yet or not.

"Useful? Worthy?" I repeated his description of me, "I only have worth to you because you want to use me and know my I'm weak to you...in a different way, but still weak."

"Ha!" the man scoffed, dissipating and reappearing directly behind me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me close to him.

Freddy wrapped a hand around my stomach tightly while his claws landed on my chest, scratching my breasts on their way up to my neck and then my cheek where he had made the gash. He plunged a blade into the already parted skin, causing a sweet pain that mad me moan. I was barely of enough mind to keep the noise low as to not draw Mom's attention. I didn't want this moment to be stopped. Just as his blade finished leaving the damaged tissue, Freddy spun our bodies around to face the mirror on my dresser. The cut he had made on m6 cheek was still dripping. I guess since he was in the physical realm...there was no 'lack of fear' protecting my body.

"That's not important," he purred. "What you have to ask yourself is: Do you care if I'm just using you in this way? Ask if...you're enjoying something for once..."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/21/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/1/2017**


	13. Chapter 13: Confrontation

I managed to duck out of the house that morning without Mom noticing the cut on my face, but at school...everyone was staring. Even though I had gotten it to stop bleeding, cleaned it, and did my best to cover it with makeup, the gash was still quite obvious. I had been thinking of a story about how it had happened on the way to school, but couldn't think of anything less shallow than that I had fallen whilst holding a knife or scissors or...something.

Even with all the eyes on me, I at first felt comfortable in the knowledge that outside of Phil, I had no other friends there. I mean, there were several who I recognized, whose names I knew, and people I had talked to on occasion, but nothing as personal as the relationship with Amy, Phil, and Jessie. Then I got to wondering if that would work against me... If kids kept having these dreams and then dying off...would they start to think the loner girl at school who showed up with random wounds might be the one behind these occurrences? Especially since the first death in their grade had been a close friend of hers and the second would be too...

The first bell rang shortly after I arrived on campus and as I made my way to English class, I was happy to find out that the teacher had called in sick and everyone was to report to study hall. Not seeing Phil in the room, I got a pass to go to the library, the coach watching over study hall doing his best not to make it obvious that his focus was on the cut across my cheek. Would the teachers report something to do with my face? Like to the cops or to my mom? Ugh. I was not looking forward to explaining it to her when she did finally see it...

I stepped outside of study hall and strolled the few paces down to the library. Inside, the air was very stuffy and smelled strongly of old books. The librarian felt no need to clear the outdated texts and replace them with newer things that would actually be accurate and of interest to the students. She was behind her desk there reading _Romeo and Juliet,_ a book she had to have read a thousand times as it was the only one anyone ever saw her with. Besides her and me, there was only one other person in the room.

"Are you okay?" my words seemed sincere as I approached a rather somber looking Phil.

"Yeah, I'm ok," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "Just didn't sleep well last night."

I pulled out the chair at the table next to him, taking notice of the piles of papers he was looming over as I sat down. There were several newspapers, files, and clippings...all, from what I could tell, referred in one way or the other to Freddy Krueger, the Springwood Slasher.

"Bad dreams?" I poked.

Phil let out a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, "Yeah," he mumbled, but when he didn't say anything else, I glanced back over the papers on the table and spoke again.

"What's all this?"

He leaned forward in his seat again, beginning to stack all of the information together neatly, but his eyes weren't on me. "You know that name I saw written on...on Amy's back? Well...I think I found out who he is."

"Well," his hands were flipping through the papers, his eyes studying the texts again. "I think I found out who he is."

He was sliding a newspaper article across the table to me. _Fred Krueger arrested as Springwood Slasher._ There was a slight pause where I wasn't sure how to approach the situation. I knew this already. Well I knew the gist of everything. But more than my morbid curiosity, I was on a mission to keep Phil from fighting Freddy or getting others to. Everyone needed to stay afraid.

"This is from the seventies," I observed, "That's decades ago. You think someone is pretending to be this guy?"

"Well, I don't-" he turned to face me for the first time. "Woah! What happened to your face?" he blurted.

The librarian shushed him loudly, gazing at him with fury in her eyes. Phil's attention had gone from me, to her, and now slowly returned in front of him as he slunk down in his seat. After a few moments, he looked back up at me.

"Seriously," he whispered. "Are you alright? What happened?"

My cheeks had flushed, no doubt showing the cut off better, and I tripped over my words, "Well, I um..." As proud as I was to wear Freddy's mark, I realized that it could cause trouble not only for me, but for him as well.

"Did..." Phil started speaking again, "Did he do that to you?"

"What?!" I burst out, barely able to come up with an appropriate response quickly enough, "Who? The killer? He, no, I just fell."

Phil sat up in his seat. "You're a terrible liar, Frankie."

I stared back at him, thinking about the irony in those words. I was a bad liar and yet I was perfectly efficient in pretending I was not such a freak...or maybe I wasn't...Phil's words had me wondering what how I looked to others...truly. I knew that they thought me weird, but dangerous or insane?...or just meek? Maybe some people did realize I was hiding something... They just didn't know what or thought it was something it wasn't. Kind of like Phil right now...

"I got into a fight with clumsiness and clumsiness won, OK?" I spoke adamantly.

Phil inhaled, "Sorry, I just...Im not quite myself since Amy... And this has got my mind racing. It's hard to sleep. I keep seeing him... And I know he wants me dead."

The boys voice had grown soft and his vision was scattered. He seemed truly unsettled. Poor thing. "Phil," I leaned in closer, "Do you really think dreams can...can do things like this?" I pointed to the gash on my cheek. "Amy and the others were killed by someone else something real. Not by bad thoughts while they slept."

He sighed, "I don't know. It's just..." he placed the papers in his hands in front of me. "You see this man?" He pointed to a picture in one of the folded newspapers. The adjoining article read _Fred Krueger arrested with links to pedophilia and murder._

"Yeah," I mumbled, my focus was on the black and white of the man. So his eyes had always been the same...soft yet strong, understanding yet chaotic... The picture was a mugshot so he was without his hat. He had wisps of light blonde hair that had just begun to show their age. I wondered then how old he was before they killed him...

"Francine? Are you listening?"

Phil's question made me realize he had been speaking more on the subject this entire time and I had drifted into my mind again. "I'm sorry," I finally took my eyes off the picture. "My mom told me about him yesterday," I admitted.

"Oh," Phil seemed disappointed. "You told your mom about this?"

"Well," I cleared my throat, "Sort of. I mean I didn't tell her. She had already heard about all the kids having nightmares," I said.

"So-"

"You think he's the man in our dreams?" I interrupted.

Phil sat back, obviously taking in the fact that I had said 'our.' "You've seen him too, then..." he mused. "Frankie, if he's attacked you, then we're running out of time! I was afraid you'd think I was insane at first, but after seeing you today," he paused to allude to seeing the cut on my face, "I knew you'd understand. The question is...How do we deal with this dream demon?"

I let a smile escape onto my face, but quickly hid it by leaning forward onto the table, resting my chin in my hands. I knew how I would be dealing with him, I thought to myself. But how should I deal with Phil and his newfound evidence fueling his bloodlust? Sighing, I glanced over to him.

"Phil, slow down, I already told you there's no dream demon. We-"

"Bullshit, Frankie!" he spat. "This may sound crazy, but you know something is going on that can't really be explained. I can see it on your face!"

I took a few deep breaths as we locked gazes. I guess I wasn't so skilled at disguise as I previously thought. Staying away from people erased the need for lying too much. Directly like this, though...and he saw right through me. So I sighed, deciding to try a different approach, "I don't know. Perhaps we should try to kill him? Before he spreads to anyone else." The words hurt my heart although I tried to remind myself that it was all in good favor. I would have to play this carefully.

"But how?" Phil thought, cocking his head to the side. "Cops can't help. They're being secretive as it is...acting baffled... How do we kill a dream?"

I hesitated. If I could get Phil to stay so distracted in a goose chase that he becomes too tired to resist sleep, he'd stay in the dream realm long enough for Freddy to kill him. Or...the gears in my head kicked into high, manipulative gear, if I could get him to _think_ he found a way to kill h and jump 8nto a foolhardy battle... Then not only would he be killed, but if anyone followed this same pattern of wanting to destroy the man in their dreams, then I would have a way to prove to them it was impossible. "How did they kill him?" I asked.

"Um," Phil began ruffling through the papers before retrieving a file and pulling a paper out of it and placed it in my hands. "His death certificate says his bones were turned in many years afterward...charred... Along with a story of how the parents of some of the children he murdered had burned him alive in the boiler room when he worked."

"So, fire, then?" I asked.

There was a pause as Phil looked at me quizzically. "Fire...maybe so..."

"Well, if you really think that someone is killing people through dreams, then kill him," I shrugged. "But if you can't...then I was right. It's just bad dreams."

"Just bad dreams... I can't believe that," Phil shook his head. "Not with everything that's happened...is still happening..."

I was losing him again. "Maybe it's what I suggested earlier... I was thinking that maybe...aybe someone's using this identify to scare kids and kill them. There has to be a chemical or something that can control dreams. I mean, there are mind altering substances..."

"I guess it could be," Phil started just as the bell rang. He began gathering the information sprawled out over the table, "My parents are picking me up after next period to attend Amy's wake," he said absentmindedly. "So I'll see you tomorrow," he added, forcing a smile as he turned to leave with his research.

"Sure," I smiled back, but in my mind I was really thinking, 'No...you won't.'

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/31/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/1/2017**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14: Soul Eater

"OH MY GOD! FRANCINE, WHAT HAPPENED?"

Mom rushed to me only seconds after I had stepped inside the house. It took a moment for my brain to catch up with what she was talking about. I had gotten through the rest of the school day having only gotten slightly more than stares because of the wound on my face. Just after lunch, a couple of blonde cheerleader types approached me and inquired as to what happened.

I only stuttered at first, but then a lie formed perfectly in my head. I told them that I had been running across the street on my way to school, tripped on the curb, and hit face first into the top of a chain link fence. It seemed to be a satisfactory answer as they continued on chattering about how they hoped it wouldn't leave a scar for me. But oh, how I hoped it did.

"I just tripped over a curb and hit myself on the top of a metal fence," I replied as she nervously studied my face.

"It doesn't look infected...did you wash it?"

"Ye-" I started, but she didn't give me time to finish.

"Go wash it and get all that makeup off of it. Then put some antibiotic cream on it," she ordered, barely letting go of my face in order for me to comply.

I made it to the bathroom upstairs and happily scrubbed away the makeup that was covering up the beautiful mark. I brushed the wet rag against my face so hard that it hurt and ended up scraping away all of the scabs that had formed there.

Looking into the mirror, I smiled to see that parts of the gash were bleeding again. I let my fingertips dance over the cut, remembering the moment it had been made.

"Francine? hurry up and come down here, sweetie," Mom's voice carried up the stairs.

Sighing, I opened the cabinet and grabbed the ointment, barely putting any on the giant gash. I twisted the cap onto the tube, haphazardly throwing it onto the counter whilst turning to leave the room. When I was downstairs again, I found my way to the kitchen, where my mom was on the phone.

"Yes, I know. I can't even imagine that. It doesn't even make any sense. Were either of them sick or...? Yeah, no, I didn't hear anything about the autop-" her head jolted around, her voice becoming shaky upon seeing me. "Ok, do that. Ok, yeah, I have to go. Ok, bye," she hung the phone back on the receiver quickly before smiling at me. "Hey honey. Come over here and let me take a look."

I sauntered over, my curiosity about the phone call helping to conceal my annoyance at her fussing over my wound. Mom took my face in hand and turned it from side to side, squinting at that cut there, every turn making me grow more and more aggravated.

"Hmm..." she finally spoke, "That may need stitches, dear."

I jerked my head away from her at the thought, lifting my hand to touch the wound. "No!" I almost yelled, the woman in front of me looking startled. "No," I cleared my throat, regaining my composure, "I don't want stitches. I'll be fine."

"Honey," Mom protested as I began to leave the room, "That's going to leave one nasty scar," she tilted her head, her expression was somewhere between concerned and demanding. "The stitches will only be uncomfortable for a bit, but it'll make all the difference later on," she insisted.

I was still covering my cheek with my hand. "I just...I don't want to go to the hospital. I don't mind a little scar...I can cover it up if I need to..." I knew my voice sounded distant, but I couldn't help it. "I'll be fine." I reassured her, praying that she didn't force me to go.

She gazed at me for a moment as if she wasn't sure herself whether she was going to push it or not, but in the end she only nodded half-heartedly as I continued retreating to my room. When I got there, I opened the door to see Freddy sitting on my bed, leaning against the headboard, legs extended, hands behind head, and a wicked grin on his face. I took a moment to glance up and down the hallway before pulling my door shut behind me and stepping closer to the bed.

"What?" I asked the man rather bluntly.

" _What!_?" His smile faded as he sat up, throwing legs off the bed and cocking his head to the side. He started strumming the air with his knives.

"I-" his actions jostled me. "I didn't mean it like that," I corrected, "I just wanted to know what you were smiling about."

His grin slowly returned as he reached his claw out, making the 'come here' motion with his pointer finger. I immediately began moving closer until his hand turned, his finger now pointing at the wound on my face. I smiled nervously, looking downward to try and hide the change in my expression. I waited for Freddy to say something, but he didn't. When I was finally able to will my grin away, I looked back to him and he retrieved his finger.

"I didn't know your friend had a sister," he spoke calmly.

My thoughts shot to Phil. Phil had a sister? No. No, he didn't. "Oh, you mean Amy's sister, Martha?" I finally figured out.

"Yeees..." the man nodded.

I shrugged. "What about her?"

"AHAHHAHAH" his infectious laughter filled my room.

I didn't hide my smirk this time. My eyes slit to where they were almost shut, "Were you at the wake today?"

Freddy nodded, "Yes, I went to visit that boy, but he wasn't the one that fell asleep," he answered as he stood.

Martha was at the wake, no doubt. Even though she had already graduated high school and was in her second semester of college...she and Amy were close. She would have made a trip for this even if that meant...losing sleep. Freddy, who had begun walking in small circles around me, grunted. I looked back up at him.

"Did you kill her?" I asked.

He stopped mid-step and threw his hands into the air. "Would you have expected any less from me?" he cackled, lowering his hands to my shoulders with knives pricking against my cheek.

"No, I wouldn't," I admitted, twisting my neck so that my eyes rested on his as he had leaned down, putting his head next to mine above his claw. My expression became serious again. "But I do have a question."

"Hm?" Freddy's brow furrowed and he growled.

"How come you kill some fast and others you carry it out? Is it because of how scared they are or not?" I mused.

"That," he lifted a knife, pulling himself away from me, "is a very good question and yes, the intensity of their fear does have something to do with it...another thing would be their age. Adults and children dream differently."

I stood silent, listening to him from behind me. Something in my being was making me resist turning around, but logic told me there was no need to remain still. So I spun around to see he had disappeared. My head shot from side to side, wondering why he'd gone. Though, just as I had settled it in my mind that that was all he was going to say on the matter, I felt his grasp upon either side of my shoulders pulling me backward with great force. I fell onto the bed, my body bouncing slightly on the mattress as Freddy appeared in front of me, grabbing hold of my shoulders at the chest this time and pushing his weight hard upon me so that I was pinned.

Teeth barred as he lowered his face close to mine, he continued, "Children...dream more strongly than adults. The subconscious thoughts that create the realm for them is more easily overpowering to them. They also tend to be more easily frightened because usually, as people grow, they become...more numb to things. A child's soul? Also stronger than an adult. Therefore, the younger the child," he leaned his mouth next to my ear and whispered in a hot breath, "the greater the feed..."

His body was resting on mine then. Although he kept his grip on my shoulders tight, the rest of him didn't feel so strong until he jabbed a knee in between my legs, letting out a devious chuckle when my lips curled and my mouth emitted a moan. My insides clenched at the touch, desiring more. My heart was fluttering and pounding, now are of every tiny touch, every brush of his clothing against me.

My eyes had closed to feel any sensation he might offer, but when moments passed and nothing more happened, I opened them again. He was still over me, a snarling grin on his face, but he didn't move. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me, little girl?" his low raspy voice sent a shiver through me.

I pondered if he was expecting an actual inquiry about him or something lewd. I wasn't versed in dirty talk nor was I confident enough with reading others' intentions for me to assume this was sexual. However...I did find myself fighting the urge to beg him for more...

"If they're stronger..." I finally spoke, "Doesn't they mean they're more likely to be able to defeat you?"

"Hm..." the demon purred, "Yes. But more likely...still isn't likely."

He jabbed his knee again before rubbing it against my panties beneath my skirt. The tease was too much for me. I wanted him to hit me harder. Cut me. Bite me. Anything. I _needed_ it. I looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he did nothing, only stared back with that evil grin. I began struggling against his grip, hoping that if I fought, he would fight back...

I did my best to lift myself from the bed, but he was physically much stronger than me. I pushed my knees up against his stomach and, just like I wanted, he split my legs further apart so that they hurt as he kept the restrained in a position where I couldn't get out of. He then threw an open mouth down onto my neck, dirty teeth sinking into the soft flesh. I couldn't tell if it was the pain or the spot of the attack, but I found myself gasping for air, my body involuntarily wriggling beneath him, unable to make any progress as he continued to bite. It was terrifically painful. Not like the sharp, burning feeling of a cut or scrape. It was blunt, yet overwhelming. A new sensation...a brilliant one.

Gradually, my body stopped resisting and I couldn't tell if it was due to its weakening or my getting used to the feel of the bite. Nonetheless, when I stopped moving except to take in a strained breath or blink, he let go of his hold on my neck, still glowering over me. He watched intently as I regained my composure, gazing at him the entire time. When I had, he grinned and removed himself.

"What happens to them when they die?" I jolted up suddenly and asked, afraid he was about to leave.

Freddy hadn't yet left though. He was leaning with back flat against my closet door, claw on his chest. He scowled and lifted an eyebrow, waiting for me to further.

"I mean, you said you feed on fear...and how powerful a soul is," I clarified, "so what happens to people if you feed on their souls?"

"You're wondering if I completely abolish a person's existence by feeding on their soul?" he showed a crooked smile then.

"I...I guess so, yes," I said.

Freddy jumped away from the wall in answer to my my mumbling, "I can't tell you what happens to you after you die," he said bluntly. "But I can say that sometimes, it does. Other times, what is left slithers away before it's completely destroyed."

His words had proved to give me more questions, but at that point I wasn't able to keep him from disappearing.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/31/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/2/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15: More than Butterflies

The rest of the day consisted of little more than me lounging about my room doing homework, reading, watching the TV that mother had allowed to stay in my room and wishing Freddy would show up more. I wondered where he was when he wasn't with me, but after all these years, he must have found a way to entertain himself without me. Or did he sleep at all? I had never really thought about if spirits had some sort of resting period like humans and other animals did... Surely there was something? At least they couldn't go all the time...they weren't seen all the time anyway. Like especially on TV and in stories, they were around at night, but not really during the day. Maybe that had to do with normal schedule of physical creatures though or... I remembered hearing a kid at school talking about how spirits like angels and demons were influenced by energy and there were different energies during day and night or during various parts of the year... Something like that.

More questions for Freddy, I guess though it seemed rude for me to ask. Yet at the same time, I felt entitled. Anyhow, I fell asleep thinking about what he had said. _I can't tell you what happens when you die._ Why couldn't he, though? He had died so, wouldn't he know? Then at the same time, what had happened to him certainly wasn't usual. Maybe that's all he had meant.

"Miss me?"

I spun around to see Freddy standing there. Glancing down, I saw I was still in my nightgown. Around me were the cold streets of my neighborhood. I had fallen asleep and hadn't even realized it. I looked back up to the burned man and smiled. He returned the gesture by smiling back and pointing to the ground. There I saw his shadow. The darkness of it became more elongated until it stretched longer than my own shadow. Then it swirled around my feet, taking the black outline of me on the pavement inside it like a python, crushing my shadowy form slowly. As it did so, I found it increasingly difficult to breath. My gaze shot from the twisting shadows on the ground up to Freddy, who was cackling wildly. Nothing was touching m6 actual body and still, I felt I was being choked.

My knees buckled beneath me and I fell to the ground, the impact scattering the dueling forms below. I gasped for air simultaneously jolting my head upward only to fall back and choke on my attempt to break as I came face to Freddy's charred face. Our noses had touched as he knelt in front of me. At last as I was on my back, the wet from the cold street soaking through my gown, I thought I'd be able to breathe again...but I was wrong.

Freddy's arms extended unnaturally long and wrapped around my body like ropes, lifting me up so they could properly strangle me. He forced what little air was left in my lungs out which formed in the shape of a foggy skull just outside my mouth. My eyes were wide, focused on this sign of death as my vision started to fade. Then suddenly, I was falling. He had let go of me but the short distance from where my body had been raised to the pavement below seemed incredibly long. Just when my sight was back and I began to question it, my body thudded hard against the ground, knocking my breath from me once again.

"AHAHAHAHHA!" Freddy was laughing again.

I was still laying on the ground. My back was hurting and the rest of me was aching as well. I coughed, trying to regain myself and found that I was spitting up blood. Curling inward, knees to chest, I moaned. It fucking hurt! Even breathing was painful... I slowly was able to pull up into a seated position and realized I must have bruises all over my body...at least on the inside. Pain. Pleasure. Could I take it? I thought back to when I first discovered I liked to be cut...the time I masturbate to Freddy...and my fear that there would be some kind of pain that would be actually discomforting... And I thought to what I was feeling...

It did hurt. It had been quite some time since I had been beat up so badly, and yes I had been complaining, but... I liked the idea that I was in the pain. And not in the 'I'm a horrible person, I deserve to be punished' kind of way. Just something about moving and feeling that I was sore... That I had been attacked... It was a good feeling. Yes, I had bitched...out of instinct. But I'd go through that again in an instant. Especially knowing it was _him_ who had done it to me. I got up, embracing the bruises instead of whining and, seeing nothing in my current line of sight, decided to turn around. There was nothing there either. I sighed and began walking.

"Hahahaha! You know what you're doing, little girl?" Freddy's voice carried through the air like a ghost.

I didn't bother looking for him anymore. I knew what to do. Closing my eyes, I thought about Phil. I had expected him to call me earlier after the wake, but I suppose he most likely didn't think much about it after what Freddy had told me had happened... Death did a lot to shake people up and throw them off...especially sudden deaths...or at least it did to normal people...

Opening my eyes, I saw I had summoned us to be at Phil's house. Something seemed off though... I looked around me before entering the home and there was still no physical sign of Freddy. I was certain he was there. Maybe even right beside me. He was simply staying hidden. To throw me off? Because he found too much company weird? Wasn't sure. Could have been only hiding from Phil or anyone else in the dream. Even so...something wasn't right... I stepped inside the house. The TV was still on in the main room. It was never on that late and I knew that neither Freddy or myself had manipulated it...

I walked around the living room, kitchen, and the study...but there was no one. I took off up the stairs. There was no noise nor movement. I went to Phil's room first, then to the bathroom, guest room, and finally upstairs where I searched all the bedrooms. Everything was empty. I tried to call on Phil or on his parents...but nothing happened. I was able to change the appearance of a couple of things so I knew it wasn't me... I stopped, my heart thudding and my palms beginning to sweat. What was going on?

"AHAHHAHA! Well?" Freddy's voice was there again and when I turned, I saw him standing on top of Phil's bed.

"I...I don't understand..." I breathed. "He's not here. Nobody is."

"And that!" Freddy lifted a knife and jumped off the bed to point it in my face, "is another problem you will have to sort out for me!"

I paused. "They're not asleep..." I whispered.

"Oh! Smart girl!" he replied sarcastically.

I would have glared if I wasn't confused. Something had suddenly struck me, "But, you can visit me when I'm awa-" I started but was cut short...literally.

Freddy had jumped just in front of me, resting two of his blades in my open mouth. I mumbled around them, only for him to turn their tips onto my tongue and press the sharp metal down against it. I swallowed hard, trying to refrain from movement, unsure of what would happen if I even twitched. But it didn't keep him from continuing to press the knives on my tongue until they cut. I tensed to keep from jerking, but as soon as I felt blood dripping down my lips, Freddy pulled his claws slowly away, leaving me in one piece...for now... "We've already been through this," his voice was low, his words harsh.

I started to speak, but closing my mouth and moving my tongue gave an odd burning sensation. Like a regular cut...just stronger...and it felt more easily agitated... I _allowed_ him to be so close to me by keeping my guard down, I thought to myself. There was no doubt that others fought his presence... I nodded at Freddy and ignored the feeling in my mouth to say, "I will fix that."

"Good girl," he said, a huge grin spreading across his face as he lifted his claw between us and grabbed hold of my gown to pull me close to him. He then leaned his face to mine and, with a growl, licked the blood that had fallen across my lips and down my chin. I clenched, letting my eyes close in the pleasure of feeling him taste me. His tongue trailed up my skin, lapping between my lips before he forced his mouth on me, opening his own to take a kiss...but he stole nothing. I gladly opened my own to let him take hold of my tongue with his and suck the wound he had made there. Then, he abruptly let me go, using the claw that had held me to him to push me back...pushing me from my slumber.

"UHHHHHHH!" I woke up with a sharp inhale, immediately cupping hands over mouth to muffle the sound, afraid Mom would hear.

I sat up in bed for a few moments, listening for footsteps or waiting for her to fling my door open. Thankfully, nothing happened. I composer myself before getting up and finding a black T-shirt with red trim and plain bootcut blue jeans. I glanced at my clock. It was late... No way she was going to let me go out... So I guess my options were making a phone call or sneaking out. Hm... I should start with the call and since Mom didn't allow me to have my own phone, that meant going downstairs. I carefully made my way from my bedroom and began reading softly on the stairs and to the kitchen. However, when I neared the bottom, I heard a voice. Was Mom still up? I crept slowly down the rest of the steps and to the end of the hallway toward the kitchen. The voice got louder...

"I just...I just don't know what to say... That's just terrible! And no sign of what happened?"

It was Mother...and she was on the phone herself. "Mom?" I said as I entered the kitchen.

"Oh!" she spun around, "Oh, Francine just came in the room. I'll call you right back," she spoke to the person on the other end before hanging it back on its base on the wall beside her.

"What's going on?" I asked with faux concern.

"Um," Mom said nervously, wringing her hands, "Sit down, honey," she gestured toward a chair at the table.

I sat, but I was already sure of what she was going to tell me by the hour, what Freddy had told me he'd done that day, and the way she was acting. I'd have been surprised if it hadn't been Phil's parents on the phone.

"That was Mrs. Bryant," she started.

And Phil's upset.

"Phillip is really upset..." she trailed off as she took a seat beside me, though I didn't let the pause linger.

"Did something happen at the wake?" I asked, immediately hearing Freddy's cackling. I cut my eyes to the side. He was standing in the door frame between the kitchen and the living room. What was he doing? This was the first time he appeared when there were others around...outside of the dream world, of course. Guess she still didn't see him though. Admittedly, he was in the shadows and his figure itself seemed to blend in... Another trick maybe? It was like he wasn't completely here.

"Yes," Mom reached her hand out to rest on mine, but I pulled away before it was too obvious that o was avoiding her. I knew she was wanting to comfort herself more than me and I didn't like being touched anyway...

"What happened?" I prompted instead. Freddy was laughing again and it made me realize just how angry my voice had sounded. But I didn't apologize. I only gazed upon my mother, waiting for an answer.

"Well..." the woman withdrew her hand and began wringing them on the table in front of her. "Martha died at the wake today." Her eyes darted between me and her hands a few times.

I wasn't sure how to handle the situation. Even though I knew it was coming, I still hadn't figured out how I should have responded...I was more worried with how I would get Phil to sleep and stay asleep.

"Honey...I know it's late," Mom started again. "But Phillip's parents are really worried about him...He's refusing to eat or sleep."

Wait! That was it! I leaned forward in my chair, reluctantly putting my hand forward on hers, "I can only imagine... But think I could get him to sleep...if you don't mind me spending the night..." I tried not to mumble the last part, but I knew under normal circumstances it would have been 'audacious' for me to suggest such a thing.

"Eh..." she hesitated and my first instinct was to act afraid. Though a second of thought made me realize she was considering it...

"I know Phil," I added, "He's just afraid something will happen to him while he's asleep. Like someone will hurt him. So if I sit and watch him sleep to make sure he's safe..."

The woman looked down at our hands and took in a deep breath, "Generally I wouldn't consent to a sleep over with the opposite sex, but," she looked up at me, "Mrs. Bryant actually wondered if you might come over for a while anyway...to calm him down a bit."

I nodded my head, feigning worry, "I need to help him relax. He's had a lot happen lately and he's been really on edge."

"Ok," she shook her head, "But I expect you to behave like a lady," Mom ordered, rubbing away the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. "Mrs. Bryant will be there keeping an eye on you. Now. Go get dressed and I'll give you a ride."

I looked down at my clothes. Jesus. She was so riled up that she didn't even notice I was already in dressed... While her attention was still elsewhere, I left the room and went back upstairs. I wasn't going to put any focus on my outfit or on her not noticing it. A mute point with possible negative outcomes. Instead, I found my book bag that was on the chair in my room and dumped it of my school supplies before putting a couple DVDs and books and other items inside. "Well, that worked out nicely," I said to the mirror before leaving, knowing Freddy was somewhere listening.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/31/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/2/2017**


	16. Chapter 16: Sleepover

Out of Phil's bedroom window, I watched as Mom pulled out of the driveway and left. She hadn't stayed too long after dropping me off there, which was surprising to me. She loved to gossip and loved an audience. Mostly, I figured, there was too much negativity going on with others for her to really be the victim in any way. She did, though, stop briefly to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Bryant. Probably about how I should behave and that she wanted Mrs. Bryant to keep an eye on me. However, I knew more about Phil's mom than mine did. She had often let Amy stay behind closed door in her sons room without bothering them. Because both of my friends had parents that let them be kids and trusted them to stay safe. I rolled my eyes to myself as I let the curtains fall back over the window in front of me. I then turned my attention to the boy brooding in the corner of his bed.

"You really should try and get some sleep," I said, my voice empty.

He looked up at me with an expression that I couldn't tell whether it was anger, confusion, or he was just too lost in thought. "You know I can't," he whispered.

I sighed, taking a seat on the floor, "We talked about this."

Phil let his legs loose from gripping them to his chest and dangled them over the bed. "So you're still going to try and lie to me about how you got that cut?"

I took in a deep breath as I stared back into his unwavering eyes. Well, that approach isn't going to work... Guess I gotta try something else. "Fine," I pouted, throwing my hands into the air before crossing them over my chest. "You're right about the cut."

"I know," he replied, "Why were you so insistent on lying to me?"

"I don't know," I almost yelled. "I guess..." I thanked my lifelong training in fabricating half truths, "I guess I just didn't want to believe that was possible..."

"But it is!" Phil scooted himself to the edge of the bed, letting his feet hit the floor, "and this bastard is killing us all one by one! What I just can't figure out is..." Phil took his face in his hands, taking a thoughtful stance, "is how should we fight him? I won't go to sleep until I know what to do. I've been thinking about what you said about the fire, but I don't know..."

There was a brief silence as both of us thought...except I was thinking about how to get Phil to sleep whilst not being a suspect in his murder and he was no doubt thinking off how to destroy Freddy. I laughed at the thought. Just as I figured something out and opened my mouth, Phil began speaking again.

"How have you been keeping him at bay?"

"Huh?" I was thrown off by the question.

"I _know_ you've been sleeping or you'd be extremely fucking tired," he explained.

I shook my head, answers coming to mind, "I've been having trouble since this," I pointed to the wound on my face, doing my best not to smile at the thought of it. "Besides that...I'm not sure...I really have never dreamt a lot," I lied, "maybe that has something to do with it?"

"Hmm..." Phil was thinking again.

"Either way," I continued, getting up from my spot on the floor and instead taking a seat beside Phil on the bed, "You've been through a lot and do need some sleep if we're going to be able to figure anything out."

"But-"

"I'll sit here and watch," I cut him off. "If you so much as twitch, I'll wake you up." I took a moment to look into his eyes with as loving and understanding an expression as best I could. I gave a little smile and I could feel him easing up.

"Ok," he sighed. "First, we should get some snacks. I'm really very hungry," he had begun standing up.

"No, here," I said, getting up myself and putting a hand on his chest to push him back, "I'll get them. I'll be right back."

"Ok," Phil smiled and leaned back on his bed, closing his eyes as I made my way out of the room.

Mrs. Bryant was in the kitchen washing dishes.

"Hey, Mrs. Bryant," I started.

"Oh," she turned her head, "Hi, sweetie. How is Phil doing?"

I smiled, "better, I think. I got him to agree to try and rest, but he says he needs something on his stomach first."

The woman beamed and immediately dried her hands on the towel over her shoulder, "That is excellent! Thank you so much, dear. Here," she opened a cabinet excitedly and began handing me bags of chips and snack cakes. "Let me get you two some drinks as well."

As she went to the fridge and grabbed two cans of soda, I spoke up again, "Oh and he was wondering if perhaps you had some sleep aid he could use?"

"Oh of course," she answered, pointing back from where I'd come with her empty hand, the other already had hold of a coke can, "There should still be some in the bathroom upstairs."

"Thank you," I smiled, taking the first soda and then the second as she handed them to me.

The woman nodded and turned back to her work. As quietly as I could, I made my way to the bathroom, setting the snacks down on the counter before opening the cabinet and scanning across the contents for the sleep aid. I took it out as soon as I found it, retrieved four pills, and replaced it. With a quick glance around to make sure I was still alone, I put the tablets on the counter, grabbed one of the soda cans, and used it to crush the pills. I then wiped the bottom of the can on my jeans to be sure there was no sign of the powder.  
I popped the soda open before brushing the chalked up tablets into the drink with my fingers and then grabbed one of the toothbrushes from beside the faucet, using its handle to stir the concoction up. Lastly, I dried the toothbrush, replaced it, and then made sure there was no residual dust on the counter before popping the second soda open and quickly grabbing all the snacks.

I scurried off to Phil's room to see he was still leaned back on his bed, his eyes shut. He shot them open at the sound of his door opening though. I smiled, dropping the food onto his bed and handing him the tampered soda while taking a gulp from the other,hoping he wouldn't complain that the drinks were already open. He didn't though, only smiled back and took a generous swallow. I started to sit back down on the floor, but was stopped when he began brushing the snacks to the foot of his bed and retrieved his legs, one falling off the side and the other laid straight on the very edge of the side opposite me.

"Here," he smiled, "Sorry I don't have any chairs, but you're tired too and the floors uncomfortable."

I grinned at the sweet gesture, not refusing the kindness and sitting awkwardly on his bed, feet on the floor. He stayed with one leg behind me; I could feel it resting against my lower back. I took a sip of my drink. The position seemed oddly intimate though it may have just been that I wasn't used to this sort of company...alone with a guy, I meant. But I soon found out that initial feeling hadn't been wrong because I felt his gaze on me as I continued small, nervous sips of the soda.

"Frankie," Phil spoke suddenly, putting his soda on the nightstand beside him and letting his other leg so it was on the bed as well, bent to the side in between us. He leaned forward, closer to me.

I raised my eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"I just...my expression seemed to put a dent in his confidence, "Wh-why did you kiss me?"

My head spin away from him, dodging his gaze as I began thumbing the can in my lap. "I...I don't know... I just..."

I felt the boys straightens leg bend and curl around me as he inched his body closer to me. Shit. Now what? I couldn't leave without him sleeping. If I hurt his feelings, he might resist sleep again, but the same could be happen if I led him on... I had kissed him because I'd been thinking about...suffering...and he was right there. I couldn't deny he was handsome, but... My loneliness had been filled. I knew where my desires lied now... Shit.

I put my soda on the ground at the foot of the bed and turned to Phil, "I was lonely..." I admitted, "But it was wrong of me to do that to you...with everything that has happened, you know..."

His smile was so sweet. He put a hand on my knee and looked softly back into my eyes, "Yeah, me too," he whispered.

I couldn't look away... I might have darker interests, but the idea of touching him... It didn't seem so bad. It actually felt inviting. Especially with that look in his eye... It might have been out of loneliness, but it was still desire. And, being new to such things, I was still curious. He raised his hand from my knee and caressed my face, careful not to hit the cut on my cheek. I was the one that leaned in then and just like before, we were locked by the lips, eyes closed. I felt his tongue slide inside my mouth and likewise I gave him mine. Bit this time...it _was_ different. Stronger, more confident on both ends.

I found myself pulling my legs up onto the bed, hands on his chest pushing him back. Our lips disconnected as he lowered himself to lay down on the mattress just as my hands had silently commanded. He smiled up at me, arms up and hands grabbing hold of my waist as I crept closer, legs split with my groin resting just above his stomach. As I leaned down, putting our lips together again, I felt his hands slide beneath my shirt, feeling up to my breasts and firmly grabbing them.

I moaned lightly, breath hitting his open mouth, our lips grazing one another as we stared into each other's eyes. His brown eyes were deep and full of emotion...so different from Freddy's... The thought of the dream demon shifted my mind away from what I was doing and what I was supposed to be doing.

"What is it?" Phil breathed. He must have seen the change in me.

"Nothing," I grinned, pressing my lips back against his quickly before glancing to make sure I had closed the door upon my return. I then straightened myself so that our bodies were twined yet perpendicular, and I slowly eased my knees down the bed...until his groin was directly under my hands. I could see the bulge in his pants and shot a grin at him before reaching to unzip him.

He made a small noise as if he were going to protest, but he didn't. He only watched expectantly as I undid his jeans, pulling each side away and softly taking grasp of his ever-hardening digit and wriggling my hands inside his boxers to free him. I heard him inhale sharply once he was exposed. I wasn't sure about how big was normal, but to my virgin eyes...he seemed quite large. I then reached down and unzipped my own pants, wishing I had worn a skirt... Fortunately my mom had a strict rule against tight jeans so it wasn't too hard to inch the fabric halfway down my thighs. There was a small twinge in my mind as I feared for getting caught, but the bigger part of me had a goal in mind... Two goals, actually... To do what I needed for Freddy... And somehow I was entirely craving the experience with sex. I wasn't sure if actual, by the book definition of sex, would ever happen with Freddy. At any rate, it wouldn't be normal.

I pulled my panties to the side and eased back on top of him. As I leaned back down so our faces were near, I could see longing desire on his face. I didn't actually know if he and Amy had had sex although I had the feeling they had. I knew they had made out and messed around, but had never really asked or anything... He was in high school though...handsome...he had friends and he and Amy had been together for years. Surely they'd had sex...or at least he had.

I wasn't overly worried about it though because WE were the ones about to have sex. And that actually involved me. I moved my hips up and down just slightly to brush my other lips against his erect head. The sensation was pleasurable even if not painful. His face showed me he thought so too. Slowly, I began easing myself further and further down him. I had masturbate and made myself bleed, but I wasn't convinced I had ever broken completely through... Guess we'd find out...

I pushed down to a point where it started to hurt and paused when his head seemed to hit a wall. Hm... I was still intact, I guess. He looked nervous at my hesitation, bit before he could breathe, I began pushing again. I grunted at the first pain. It wasn't unwanted, just unusual. But I had paused again.

"Are you..." he asked suddenly.

"I-uh-" I stammered. He had caught me off guard. Then he did something unexpected.

He pushed me off.

I sat on the bed, pants down, staring at him in confusion as he sat up and fell back against the headboard, "Frankie, I don't want to... I'm not the person that should do that to you."

I knew the gesture was exceedingly kind...but it was entirely unwanted. I wanted to fuck him. I was even clenching! And I knew he wanted to fuck me too. "Shuttup, Phil," I growled and without really thinking, was climbing back on top of him.

"Frankie!" he yelled in a hushed tone, trying to gently push me back away, but I fought back. It was stupid. I knew he was stronger than me, but...I kept forcing back against him, pressing with all my might on his shoulders, fingers digging in, our groins touching again. He was still hard, but I could feel he was softening. Just as I thought he was starting to gain control over me, I heard cackling.

Freddy appeared behind my target, head jutting like a ghost out of the wall. He placed his hands on top of mine, using his own strength to keep the boy on the bed underneath me. Phil couldn't see Freddy... I repositioned myself, sliding my lips and then my walls around his weakening erection. I rose my hips and thrust them forcefully downward. Once...twice...and I felt him break through, could feel moisture dripping.

"Frankie, get off," his voice was almost a cry, bit he didn't call for help.

And I didn't stop.

I kept moving my hips up and down, feeling him naturally become hard again inside me. I kept looking from Freddy down to the boy beneath me. He was moaning, but it sounded like strained, desperate cries rather than sounds of pleasure. Bit I know it had to feel good. I felt good. And Freddy was grinning evil above the boy, watching me take my pleasure from him. I kept in my motion until I felt one final clench, a burst of released energy from within me, and then several constant, uncontrollable clenches afterward... Only then did I begin easing my grip...and so did Freddy, who immediately disappeared as Phil was finally able to push me off of him.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/31/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/3/2017**

 **Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and check out my other stories!**


	17. Chapter 17: Betrayal

I didn't have any time to recover before Phil was on his feet, pants up, hands on head and pacing in circles in front of me as I sat on the bed, "What the fuck, Frankie? What the fuck!"

I felt he should have been yelling...like he wanted to yell, but his voice was hushed though quick and shaky. He stopped for a moment to look at me, eyes full of confusion and...hurt? I only stared back, baffled by the situation myself and unable to form any words. He cut his gaze away again and kept pacing with hands grabbing his skull and furling his hair. I began to wonder if he was going to say something to his parents and the thought terrified me.

I got up from the bed, awkwardly pulling my jeans back into place and fastening them quickly before throwing up my hands at him in a placating gesture. Yet still I didn't know what to say. I only stood there, mouth agape, my palms beginning to sweat. This wasn't good... I was supposed to calm him down and get him to sleep, not rile him up! "Phil..." I began weakly.

"No, Frankie, go home!" he barked at me, stepping forward into a menacing pose, but the finger he pointed at me was shaking just like his voice.

"OK," I sighed, looking down to the ground, "Let me get my bag..." Where the fuck was Freddy when I needed him? I thought to myself as I walked between the bed and Phil, reaching where my bag was resting at the end of the football on the floor. But while I leaned down there...I noticed something laying just under the bed...a baseball bat. Glancing back at the boy behind me, I saw that he had stopped pacing and taken a stance where he deliberately faced away from me. He had one hand resting over his ear, the other folded under it and it looked like it was over his mouth.

Keeping my eyes on him, I reached and took hold of the bat. When I had a good grasp on its handle, I carefully pulled it out from under the bed frame and lifted it to my side. Swallowing hard, I took two gentle steps forward, readying to strike. But just felt myself cowering away, he turned around, hurt expression changing to shocked. He opened his mouth and I panicked, swinging the bat full force at his temple. The first hit seemed to daze him. He threw up an arm to grab the weapon, but missed his aim. His eyelids lowered and stretched open and lowered again. A soft noise started coming from his mouth and I struck again, hitting the same spot.

He fell back against the wall, obviously fighting to stand back up as he started to slide down it. So I stuck again. He fell to his knees. One more hit... And he dropped. His body landed with a this that I knew could be heard downstairs. Shit! I stared at the boy as he lie face first on the floor. Quickly, I stepped over and lifted his head. Fuck, he was bleeding. I was sure I heard someone calling. Dammit. Fuck!

I looked back at the bed. He wasn't too far, maybe I could... I stepped over him, placing one foot on either side of his lower back and knelt down to grab hold of his shoulders. No! His chest and shoulders from underneath his arms... I changed my hand placement. There, now if... He was heavy, but not as much as I thought he'd be. Lucky he wasn't a jock... Adrenaline was probably helping too... I managed to drag his body over to the side of the bed, but lifting it further... That would take more work. Shit!

"Kids? Are you alright in there?" I heard Mrs. Bryant's voice outside in the hallway.

Dammit! I dropped him onto the floor, quickly wiping the spot on his head where I had struck him. There was a soft knock on the door, immediately followed by Phil's mom opening it and poking her head in.

"Oh honey!" she exclaimed when she saw me standing over her unconscious son and hurried in. "What happened?"

"I-uh-he fell asleep a little while ago," I stuttered. "I guess the medicine hit him fast, but he fell out of bed and hit his head on the table..." I did my best to give a look of shock and concern to the woman.

"Oh dear," she knelt down beside Phil and lightly shook his shoulders. "Phil, honey..."

Shit. He better not be dead. Not by my hands. Fuck. How the fuck would I get out of that? To my surprise, Phil started moaning then, barely moving in response to his mother's touch. Shit. On second thought, maybe it'd be easier not to be seen as a suspect if he couldn't talk...

"Here, honey," Mrs. Bryant's voice had relaxed, "Let's get you back up in bed."

She put his arm over her shoulder and slowly helped the boy to stand. He was still muttering as she sat him on his bed though...

"Ugh... Frankie... "

My eyes got wide and my heart skipped a beat at the sound of my name.

"Sh...everything's alright, lay down," his mother cooed as she laid him down and began covering him with the covers. He moaned once more, but then he stilled and seemed to curl back into sleep. His mom gave him a light pat to the head and I saw that his eyes were closed, his chest moving in a normal, rhythmic pattern.

"Is everything OK?" I spun to the sound of Mr. Bryant in the doorway. Unlike his son, he was an incredibly large man.

"Yes, poor thing had fallen asleep, but then fell out of the bed," his wife smiled, moving away from her son and over to her husband.

"Alright then," the man nodded, "Well, thank you, Francine. If you'd like, I can give you a ride home."

"Um," I looked back at Phil.

"Don't worry, dear," his mom reached out and patted my hand I was too caught up in my predicament to jump at the unwanted touch. "He's alright now. I will call your mom and let her know you're on your way."

"Um, right. Thank you," I offered a brief, weak smile. "Let me...get my bag..." I cautiously looked from the couple, the Phil and then put my eyes out for the bat as I kept walking.

It had fallen just beside my bag, but in better site. I glanced back and the Bryant's were still there. Shit. I needed to wipe it. I reached out and grabbed it, purposely knocking over my drink that was still at the foot of the bed while simultaneously scooting the weapon back under the bed.

"Oh no, Mrs. Bryant, I'm so sorry!" I said thickly, gesturing at the spilled soda, but she had already seen it.

"Oh don't worry, I'll get it," she smiled, coming closer.

"Oh no, please let me," I said, "Mom will be upset if I made a mess and didn't clean it personally."

"Hm, alright dear," she kept smiling. Just grab some towels out of the bathroom and come on downstairs once you're done." The woman then patted her husband on the chest and the Two made their way from the room.

I shuffled into the bathroom, making sure to get one dry towel to soak up the soda and one rag and wet it so I could wipe the bat. Back in Phil's room, I was relieved to see he hadn't moves. He was still alive and sleeping. I quickly mopped up the soda out of the carpet and then grabbed the bat and vigorously scrubbed it. Once I was as satisfied as could be, I grabbed both towels and headed out with one last glance at my old friend before flicking off the lights.

On my way home, I felt an abundance of different things...which was weird for me. I had never been a very emotional person. Namely, I lived in a constant state of worrying that I had done or was going to do something to upset my mom. Other than that, I could remember feeling frustrated and depressed sometimes, but that seemed to stem from the same fear. People always said I had such a positive attitude and stayed happy...it was just a sham though. That's what she wanted me to be like. The weirdest part, however, was I felt the slightest twinge of guilt. At first I assumed that also was due to my being afraid of getting caught, as was usual for me, but then I realized that I might actually regret having...raped? Wait. Did I rape Phil? My brow furrowed in thought...maybe I had... I shook my head. No, he wanted it. He only pushed me away for some perceived benefit on my part. I had bludgeoned him though...

Hm...I growled in thought, catching my mother's attention, "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, not even thinking about my answer before saying it. The lie slipped smoothly out, "Just worried about Phil. He was pretty worked up."

"He'll be alright. He just needs some rest and some time," Mom's compassionate words felt oddly sincere. "But you should probably get to bed."

I nodded my head, pushing my chair back from where we had been sitting at the table in the breakfast nook and sipping on hot chocolate. I would have much preferred coffee, but Mom was adamant that I should never have that amount of caffeine before going to sleep. She was probably right, although she only let me drink half-caff anyway so I didn't see that it was really a far stretch from the caffeine content in the chocolate. Nonetheless, I simply got up and began strolling out of the kitchen.

"Francine?" Mom's arm took hold of mine as I passed her.

Turning to look at the woman, I saw she was reaching up with her other hand, trying to pull me down in a hug. I cleared my throat to keep the aggravated sigh from being heard as I leaned down and gave her the embrace. It was quick. It always was. And ended with a pat on my back as she watched me continue on my way out of the room and to the stairs, which I quickly climbed. Once in my room, I pushed the door closed, forgetting that Mother always wanted the doors kept open a crack when we were sleeping. I sat on my bed, not bothering to change out of my shirt and jeans as I laid down, ritualistically pulling the covers over me and resting my head sideways on the pillow.

I needed to sleep. I needed to see Freddy and know what was going on, but the harder I tried to fall into slumber, the more awake I became and the more riddled with anxiety. My mind was racing. Was Phil still alive? Had the hits I'd given him across the head killed him? I could handle Freddy being the one who actually gave the boy the murderous blow because in my head I'd know that it wasn't me so therefore there would be no 'playing innocent.' Technically then, I'd be innocent. However, if he had died directly by my hands...then I was sure to be found out. I'd be locked up...I'd be no use to Freddy anymore... My one true friend...he'd leave me too!

But what if I was already no more use to him? Phil was my only other living friend. The only other person I'd been somewhat close to. Even if his death blew over without any trouble, what would I do now to help the dream demon? If I couldn't be of help, then he wouldn't stick around. He'd probably even deny killing me before he left just out of spite. But then...I could become his enemy... I likely knew more about how he worked than anyone else alive now so if he turned on me, I'd just turn back on him! If I could...could I do that? I stopped and thought about a reality where Freddy abandoned me...and it made me so furious... Yes, I could. Because I couldn't be alone again...

I blinked several times and kept looking around the room every so often, hoping I had fallen asleep and didn't even realize it, but I hadn't. My second hope was that I'd open my eyes and Freddy would be standing there or I'd hear his voice. Anything to set me at ease...let me know what was going on. I kept tossing and turning. My mind wouldn't settle and neither would my heart. I was sweating again. Why couldn't I just fucking sleep? If I'd just closed my eyes and made it to the dream world, then everything would be fine.

At long last, I did fall asleep, but there were no dreams. Instead my head was filled with voices...voices I couldn't control or shut down...And all of them made the core of what little soul I had feel so utterly pathetic. They made me dither between being certain I was insane or just a regular piece of shit. But worse than all that...They made me feel...Alone. 

"Honey? Honey!"

"Hm?" I mumbled, eyes still heavy from final slumber.

"Honey, wake up!"

I slowly lifted myself to a sitting position in my bed, rubbing my eyes. Through the blurs of them adjusting to the light and sudden awakening, I saw my mom sitting on the bed beside me. My first thought was that I was late for school. I threw my legs out of bed, but before I could stand, Mom's hand was on my shoulder, pushing me back down. Mom wore a horrified expression and I could tell she had been crying as well. So Phil was dead now. But was it me? I glanced around the room. Nobody else was there. I stared back at my mother, trying to figure out what she was thinking and I came up short.

"Honey...I..." Mom tried.

I waited, still tired, trying not to think about those terrible voices in my head. I wondered how long it would take her to choke this one out... I knew Phil was dead. Spit it out! Had I done it? Did someone think I'd done it? What did they know?

"Phil...Honey," the woman took my hands in hers and looked straight into my eyes. "The police are here. You...They want to talk to you."

Shit. Shit! FUCKING SHIT!

"Me?" I swallowed, "But...but..." I stammered.

"You were the last one to see Phil alive, you see..." she managed.

"What?" I jumped from the bed, tearing away from her. So I was a suspect? But...the bat...was that what killed him...or Freddy? Shit! Was I literally fucking insane? Freddy...he'd helped me hold Phil down so I could fucking rape him, but...why hadn't he helped me with anything else? SHIT! It was all in my head. At that point, I had thrown my hands onto my head and was clawing at my scalp.

"Francine!" Mom jumped up and forced a hug on me, pulling my hands down to my side, "Calm down! It's alright!" She jerked my hands to a still and stared into my eyes, "I know you didn't do anything. You couldn't have done...that. There's just been no movement in this case, no suspects, you know. They're grasping!"

I shook my head. "No, no..."

"Francine, listen to me," Mom pushed my chin up. "It's going to be alright. As soon as we can...we're getting out of here. You and me, a new place, a new start." She hugged me tightly then.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The old familiar laugh of Freddy sounded and I jeered my eyes to look behind me and gave him a look...a look that...well...if they could kill...Freddy would be dead.

Again.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 10/31/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/3/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18: Change of Plans

"Aw, is someone mad?" Freddy's once comforting cackle did nothing but annoy me now.

"I'm not talking to you," I pouted.

My conversation with the police had been horrible. Grasping or not didn't help the fact that I was the cause for Phil's death, directly or indirectly. I still didn't know at that point because neither the cops nor Freddy had told me what killed him or how he'd been found. Also, I was feeling somewhat betrayed by the dream demon for not helping me out before. I felt he had kind of set me up though logically I knew that wasn't true. It was the connection. He couldn't directly affect anyone while in the real world except me. He had put his hands in mine, lending his strength so I could restrain my friend. Maybe I was just returning to that state of mind where I was convinced I was insane and imagining everything.

Freddy suddenly pounced onto the bed, strattling me with either hand taking hold of the bedposts behind me. He stared down at me with a wicked grin, eyeing me. But instead of gazing lustfully back, I only glared. His upper lip curled into a snarl as he barred his teeth, removing claw from above me and placing it, palm down, on my crotch, pressing firmly. I tried not to wriggle because even though I was angry, the touch still aroused me. Dammit. I couldn't hide the subtle nuance in my face that acknowledged the sensation though and his evil smile spread further as he put more pressure on my intimate region. Even with my thick jeans, I could feel his sharp blades beginning to cut through the fabric. The only thing I could do was twist to my side to the insinuation, but that didn't sit with him well... He let his body fall lower to me, pulling in his legs to hug me tighter between him as he forced me onto onto my back once more and pinned my hands to my sides. I mentally chastised myself for feeling excited at these harsh actions.

"Don't be such a woman!" He barked.

I turned my eyes to him, doing my best to remain emotionless with my scowl, but the line of questions I rushed out were entirely emotional, "I killed Phil, didn't I? Are you just a part of my mind? Am I actually becoming the murderer?"

"You're being insane right now," he growled, "Taking credit for my work... You did a number on your friend. It even affected the way he dreamed. But that's _my_ kill as were all the others," he lifted his claw and pointed a blade at me, "You'll have to make your own if you want credit."

My brow furrowed then eased as I stared back at him, but I couldn't seem to formulate any response. I hadn't killed Phil, so...they couldn't blame this on me, could they? I felt like they were trying to. I instantly retracted my previous thoughts. Freddy was right. I hadn't known those other people. I hadn't murdered anyone and Phil had been alive when I left. I might be changing...or rather embracing my inner nature...but I wasn't imagining this dream demon. He saw the gears in my head turning. I don't know if he had a clue what I was thinking, but either way, he began speaking again.

"Oh, I see. You don't trust me," his words were thick as he made an obvious fake of being sad and retreated from me. He sat up on the end of my bed, hands together between his legs in a mocking position, "And here I was planning this wonderful gift for you and you don't even trust me."

I wanted to be annoyed with him even still, but I couldn't hold who he was against him. What kind of hypocrite would that make me. Besides, I was curious. "What the hell are you talking about?" I scoffed, pulling myself up to sit beside him.

"No, I don't think you really want it anyway. I mean, why would you want to join someone you don't trust?" he smirked, standing up and walking away from me, twitching his blades behind his back before turning and lowering his gaze to rest on my body.

I was confused and he was laying this pretend attitude on more and more. "What do you mean? I already joined you," I spat, "I think I've made THAT clear."

"AHAHA!" And there it was. He was laughing again.

I shook my head in frustration. "WHAT?!"

"I may be dead, but I'm not dumb!" the laughter stopped and he appeared right in my face, arms on either side of me with hands gripping onto the mattress I sat on. It was hard for me to remain straight in my posture so I started falling back. "I already warned you about lying to me little girl," he growled.

Shit. He somehow knew I had considered betraying him myself. Was it just my mouth behavior from before that put the thought in his mind? Either way, I could tell he wasn't going to move forward until I said something to acknowledge what he assumed was going on in my head...assumed correctly, in fact. I had shied away from the idea, but I had had it nonetheless.

"It's just..." I began, "I felt like I had nothing else to offer you now that Phil was dead. I don't know anyone else and...if they think I did it and I get locked away..."

The burned man grinned, reaching his claw up and scratching it along the underside of my chin, letting the metal clink as it reached the end and popped into the air in front of my lips. He slowly lifted himself away from my oddly arched body that had started to ache in the strained position. Once he stood straight, he clicked his blades and gestured his head for me to follow him. So I stood as well, sighing and sauntering after him as he casually walked into the mirror. I stopped in front of the door, watching him take a place next to my reflection.

"You're not the most popular person, that's for certain," he mused, setting his hands on my shoulders in the glass.

I scowled at the words. Yeah, I knew that. That was the problem... I tried to take comfort in the fact he was still around and let myself feel the weight of his hands resting on me. I could feel one of his blades' cold sharpness on the bare ski of my neck.

"But you're the perfect profile of a kid that shoots their school up," he blurted. "Especially now. I mean...you've tragically lost your only friends and you're all alone in a world where nobody understands you." He was massaging my shoulders in the mirror, the sensation echoing in my physical body. The metal claws were pinching my shirt as well as tiny bits of my skin. His likeness of me to a mass murdering shooter was sudden though it did seem to describe me well... "I've been priming you."

I cocked my head to the side, all trace of attitude or doubt about our bonds eradicates from my mind, "Priming...me?"

Freddy grinned, releasing my shoulders and stepping back out of the mirror, standing almost to where are bodies touched, gazing down at me, "I've been preparing your soul for the afterlife."

This explanation only confused me more. I had shifted from wanting nothing other than death to imagining a simple life living alongside the dream demon, doing all I could to keep him content as he teased me with beautiful pain. But now...he wanted me dead? "I don't understand. How? Why? The only way I'm good to you is by getting people to go to stay to asleep and not fight you...how can I help at all if I'm dead?"

"And that!" he said, flicking my nose with a knife, "little girl, is what you will continue to do! You see, I was a man once. As I died, I made a deal with the dream people to become what I am now. Likewise, you shall make a deal with me and I will bestow power upon you," his lip curled over his teeth as he put claw on his heart, "But your power won't be like mine. You will be..." he began walking around me in a circle, "A sandman."

"A sandman?" I repeated questioningly. I had heard the term before but really didn't know what it meant.

"You'll be able to appear to the children," he explained, "Infect their dreams, and keep them asleep. But more importantly," he spun, suddenly at my side again, eyes on eyes, nose touching my nose, "You'll be able to float away from this town and take me with you."

"Away from Springwood?" I thought aloud, a puzzle piece coming into place in my brain, "Was that part of your deal? That you had to stay here?"

The demon's smile faded as he fell away from me, eyes twitching as if he hadn't expected me to pick that information up. I wondered briefly if he was angry, then the smile came back and he was switching his knives in my direction again, "Smart girl. Yes. In exchange for my power, I had to compromise to stay here, and send energy back to those above me. I can't break these rules voluntarily, but you...you'll have different rules...a different deal."

"A deal with you?" I asked rhetorically. "What then will I be giving you for my own powers?"

Freddy's grin stretched wildly across his charred face and he floated closer to me once more, grabbing my shoulder with his left hand to yank me tight to him as his glove rose to my face, each blade resting one by one on my face and scratching down gently. Then, he lifted it again, one blade landing onto the gash on my cheek and digging down into it. My lips curled and I grunted with the pain, feeling myself clenching with desire as my body crippled in his hold.

Suddenly, he stopped agitated the cut, using both hands so that I was snug against his body. I could feel he was hard just behind the curve of my ass as he whispered with that raspy voice into my ear, "Servitude, of course."

My entire body tensed as his words sent chills through me, my intimate parts clenching lustfully at the thought of his control over me, working beside him as he gave me painful pleasure for all eternity. No judgement, no holds barred. Me, finally me, fulfilling my desires with someone who cared nothing for how strange or how evil or anything that I was.

"Now, about that shooting..." he whispered, still clutching me tight.

Worry came back to my mind, "I don't have any access to guns. I don't know how to get one," my voice was weak. "And I haven't shot one since I was a kid. Why would you want me to do this anyway?"

The man growled and flung me to the bed. I naturally rolled over to face him again, lifting myself again. However, just as I began, he was over me, knee between my thighs, pinning me against the bed by my groin. His chest was pressed against mine and he had taken hold of my hair, pulling my head backward so that I was forced to look up at him, unable to move from the position.

"Not just anyone can make a deal with the spirits!" he barked. "Why don't you see people like me all the time, huh?" he yanked my hair, causing me to moan. "You have to earn a deal. You have to cause such an abrupt and powerful shift in life force energies that it shows you have the worth!"

I gulped. Life force energy? Worth? That could be positive or negative but I guess to get the attention of a demon...it'd have to be the latter... Shooting up a school? All the deaths and chaos...the fear... The ones left behind to deal with all the loss... It should certainly have a great effect, but... I still had no idea how to get a gun...

"There's more than one way to go about mass murder, too, little girl," the man smirked with another tug on my hair.

I was powerless to his hold over me. I was tensing over and over. I could feel myself becoming wet just thinking about this constraint...and about killing for him. More than one way? People had poisoned multitudes before...still it seemed more difficult than getting my hands on a gun... And that was definitely something I would get caught doing... Even however temporary, I didn't like the idea of being arrested...interrogated... especially after my recent encounter with the cops.

"Freddy, how..." I choked out only to have him pull again, crushing himself against me.

"Sh-sh-sh..." he leaned forward, his lips brushing mine, "You're smart. You'll figure it out."

My mouth parted in protest, but there were no words as my lips were instantly greeted with his own, smothering me in a kiss, his charred akin scratching against my soft flesh. He forced an unearthly long tongue inside my mouth and down my throat, then retracted it to bite down hard on my bottom lip. I grunted then moaned, my eyes fluttering close to take in the sensation. But just as soon as my vision was black, every touch was gone. My eyelids shot open as my body naturally eased into standing normally.

He had vanished again.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 11/2/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/3/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19: Planning, Accomplishing

With the mention of the school shooting thing, I wondered exactly how deep inside my mind Freddy had been. I hadn't actually ever wanted to kill anyone before. I mean, sure I'd though about it but only in a fantasy sort of way...letting off steam I guess. But mostly it was just my Mom...and, I guess if I were honest with myself...I _had_ legitimately thought about killing her before...

My mind flashed back then to the night I had planned to end the suffering. Mom had never been the same song everything happened with Dad. Not to say she was the perfect maternal figure before that. But she became depressed then. She had suicidal thoughts. She got up many days quite late, telling me she wished she hadn't woken up at all. She spent most of her time at home, Doing this that and the other to pay the bills. Selling things, dipping into savings. Fortunately the home had been paid off so there was no rent or house note... I remember she often asked if it were wrong of her to wish she was dead or that Dad was. I, of course, tried to assure her to the contrary while simultaneously suggesting she talked to someone. Though she wasn't sick. Didn't need help, she insisted. It was bullshit and she knew it.

Nonetheless, the scattered meals, the over sleeping, and even drinking more often... So much proved otherwise. Not that I could tell other people. Firstly, I didn't have anyone. A couple of family members...my shallow friends... But nobody would see it. She was too isolated. Put on too good of a face. And 'it was just a bad time, she'd bounce back.' When I had mentioned something to her sister, I had been told that. Ha. Whatever... I guess everyone was too focused on themselves.

But these things and her unfairness to me continued. Only last year, I had decided I had enough. I wanted her gone. Dead. No longer hurting herself or me. And I didn't care if I got caught. Juvie, prison, a psych ward...no possible terrible outcome could be worse than being stuck with her. Even when I turned eighteen, I still wouldn't have anything but her...still wouldn't have the strength of will to make her hate me. Because that would also come with me being the bad guy. Everyone would take her side and she'd make sure of that.

That night, she had been saying she wanted a drink but that she didn't need it. I coaxed her (easily) into buying the liquor anyway. You need a break, I said, just a little treat. It's not like you drink all the time... She liked mixing her own drinks at home so she typically would buy a couple litres of different alcohol and some mixes. She would have a few drinks then dump the rest of the beverages out in guilt. That night, as I went to bed, I asked if she was going to make a drink. She said she would have one before she laid down. So, I lay awake, pretending to have fallen asleep for another hour or so before I heard her make her way to bed.

Giving it some more time, I crept out of my room and stood in her doorway. I called her name or 'Mom,' rather, a couple of times. She didn't move or otherwise respond so I knew she was asleep...or else she'd bitch at me for being up. There was one gun in the house at the time. When we were left alone, she had gotten it for protection even though she hated guns... It was a small pistol. P30something? I really didn't know much about those things...but she kept it in her nightstand.

I went inside her bedroom, cautiously, approaching her side. I spoke her name once more and no response. Putting my hand on the second drawer knob, I slowly pulled it open to be sure it made no noise. The pistol was laying there... I loved my hand onto it, lifting it inside the drawer, but not out in case she woke up before I was ready. My heart was thudding in my chest. My Dad had taught me when I was pretty young how to shoot a couple different types of gun. Another kind of pistol- like the ones police carried- and an assault rifle. But it had been so long...

I fiddled with the weapon. My hands were shaky. I knew the safety had to be on, but I couldn't figure out if I was switching it right... I didn't want to shoot it without being sure it was armed. Mom shifted in her sleep then and I instantly put the gun back down and slid the drawer closed. I didn't move from my position. Instead, I stood there, just staring at her. She was still asleep. Forget shooting her! I thought. The lamp on the table was heavy. If I hit her hard enough... My vision darted between her body and the lamp. Images of me hitting her over and over on the head...even her waking up, dazed, trying to fight back as I kept striking her...flooded my mind.

And then, I just gave up. I suddenly felt cold standing there in the night even though I had long pajamas on. Fuzzy pants and matching shirt. It wasn't worth the effort. She wasn't worth my effort. So I left. I changed my mind that I would just kill myself instead. Obviously I didn't go through with that either... The remembrance of the events made me feel weak...unaccomplished...but that was changing. I _had_ attacked Phil. I had led him to his death and now... I WOULD take blood myself and earn my spot in the life...the afterlife I wanted and that I deserved.

Freddy hadn't given me a time when he wanted things done before he vanished, but it had to be soon. And not because I was excited. In fact, I was actually quite nervous no matter how determined. It was because summer was right around the corner...less than a month away. I decided that during finals would be the best time. We would all have the same lunchtime and everyone would be super bored and tired. Staying awake long enough to take those exams were difficult enough without sleep medication...

But my mom's pills wouldn't be enough... No, I'd need something more... It was fortunate that the school was small, but it would still need to be strong... Finals were in another week. I decided that that would give me enough time to sneak inside the vet's office and steal some tranquilizer... I did know who the daughter of the town veterinarian was, but I wasn't sure that I could get close enough to her in the time allotted to use her to my benefit. So instead, I had decided to fake a reason to get into the back.

I had just reached the door to the local animal shelter. There wasn't always a lot of animals there. Mostly just when someone didn't get their pet fixed and it had babies that nobody wanted. But I wasn't picky. I needed something. Anything. Just so I could get into the vet's office without Dude. I love it lol. That's actually my other partner's real name XD when I first saw your answer I was like too suspicious. Since I didn't really do much except for read, I always had cash on me. I'm sure Mom wouldn't say anything about me bringing home a pet. Not after everything she thinks that I've been through recently. Besides, she really liked animals. I was surprised we didn't already have one.

"Can I help you?" The young man behind the front desk greeted me.

"Um, yes," I said, stepping up. "I'm looking for a pet. What are your adoption fees?"

"Well," the man smiled and I could tell he was checking me out even though I had to be at least a decade younger than him.

I giggled, attempting to play into a flirt, which apparently worked. And apparently he had been speaking this entire time. The man gave a smirk and I took a moment to take in his looks. He was quite handsome...in a rugged sort of way. Was Freddy considered rugged? I guess as a living person he had been clean cut although I loved his strong features, even then.

"We generally charge $40, but I do have the authority to make exceptions," he winked at me.

I managed to go along with his flirting although it annoyed me more than anything to realize just how easy some people were... He showed me to the back room, staying extremely close to me as he helped me pick out a small dog. Some sort of pomeranian mix. He ended up letting me take the dog for $20 under the table and the promise that I would take care of it. Of course I promised. Before I could leave, he asked my name and how old I was. I told him with the same cry manner and it didn't seem to bother or shock him that I was underage. He did, however, say that he was surprised. Said I looked mature. I barely kept from showing distaste at the compliment and somehow faked a blush and a thank you. I knew Freddy liked little girls, so I didn't like the though that I looked any older than I already was.

The dog, whose name was Ozzie, was well received by Mom just as I thought he would be. She loved animals, like I said, but hadn't had a pet in years. I told her I'd help keep up with him. That I just figured she could use the extra happiness around. She cuddled and played with him for quite a while the rest of the afternoon while I pretended to study for exams, hoping Freddy would show, but he never did. I kept myself content by imagining that he was probably doing something to ready my afterlife for me...which I was still partially scared of getting to. It wasn't because I didn't want to die or even because I didn't want to leave Mom alone. I just didn't know what it'd be like. I mean, I know I could take a lot of pain, but how much more would it hurt to die? To actually feel my own life drain away? And I knew it'd be a violent death. It could only be. And I didn't mind that at all...

"Thinking about me?"

I didn't realize I had dozed off after moving to sitting in my bed instead of the floor. I was still in my room in the dream and Ozzie was there too. Freddy was laying in the air beside me, floating on an invisible mattress, hand propping up his head. He sat up, his feet falling to the floor as he stood up and walked toward the dog who immediately awoke and began growling.

"What's with the mutt?" he growled back.

"I need him to help me get into the vet's office," I said, afraid that Freddy would want to hurt him.

"Ah, I see. I told you you were a smart girl," he scratched his chin after turning his attention back to me and taking me in.

"Come to Daddy, little girl," he beckoned me and just the hearing those words made me wet.

I stepped toward him and as soon as I was close, he pulled me in and scratched his claws down my back, tearing my nightgown and my skin. I let out a scream of passion as I took in the pleasure of the pain he gave me. I lifted my chin to look up at him to which he responded by leaning forward and shoving his tongue down my throat. I could feel it wiggling around my mouth, hitting my teeth and sending slime down my throat. He was pulling me so tightly against his body that it was a little hard to breathe.

Then suddenly, he had retracted himself and the two of us were sitting in the green backyard on a sunny day, I was dressed in a small smock dress, the likes of I hadn't worn since I'd been a small child and I was leaning backward into the lap of the man, the creature that I loved. He had shifted from his demon form to how he looked before he died. The moment was very odd to me...the softest he had ever been with me. It wasn't entirely unbecoming of the demon I had grown so fond of, yet I feel this little fantasy wasn't for me. He had dressed me far too young for my age and had my head laying atop his lap, pressing against his groin as he slowly caressed my hair. A short time later, his fingers had found their way down the front of my dress, their tips making a circle around my nipples and lightly playing with the small amount of breast that I had...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 11/2/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/3/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20: Vets are Expensive

I had called the vet and set up an appointment for Ozzie. I planned it so it was both at the busiest time available and as close to the first day of finals that I could. They only had limited staff so no matter how many appointments and customers came in, they had nobody more to call in. I had heard others complain about it before. So that meant at one of their most flooded times, I could more easily slip past staff. And the less time there was between the theft and my plan coming to fruition, the less likely it would get caught up to me. I had been to the office only a couple of times in the last few years, but if nothing had changed...they still had no security cams in the building.

"So what can we do for you today?" The nurse had taken me back into a room but was yet to leave me unattended as she gave Ozzie a once over and checked his vitals.

"I just wanted to get him a checkup," I smiled.

"New pet?" she asked, rather bluntly as she felt his underbelly.

I nodded. Her serious demeanor was only making me more nervous. Just fucking leave for a minute...

"Well Dr. Carrington sees all new patients for a more detailed evaluation, but your pup seems to be in good health," the woman offered a grin, but it still showed that she had her mind on other things. No doubt the waiting room full of people I had left behind. "The doctor will be in shortly," her voice was flat again as she left.

Finally, I muttered under my breath. I took no time in stepping towards the cabinets that I had spotted behind her when she first brought me into the room. I didn't expect any drugs to be there, but I rummaged through them and the drawers anyway. I was right. There was nothing really other than syringes, thermometer batteries, and gauze... I'd have to get into the back room where they kept the stay-over pets. It was the only place besides the vet's personal office that the tranquilizers could be. Poking my head outside of the small room I was in, I could see the waiting area crammed with other pet owners. At the other end of the hall where these visit rooms were, there was a closed. It had been open when we walked back and I had seen more cabinets and several kennels in it.

"Buurk!" the tiny dog behind me barked. He was still tied by his leash to the restraint pole on the exam table.

Should I take him with me? At first, I thought not, that he'd just slow me down, but then... I realized he'd make the perfect excuse if someone asked what I was doing. I'd just say I let him off his leash and he got away from me. So I went back inside, quickly grabbing him before looking down the hallway once more. I saw that the vet was at the end, going over some papers with the nurse that I had been talking too.

Suddenly, they turned and begun walking toward me. I quickly retreated my head. I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my life. Even with the assault on Phil...at least that was in private. I was in the open here... Basically... The couple reached the outside of my door and I began to put on my face when they passed it. I let out an audible sigh and did my best to catch my breath before returning to the door. I was afraid the two had gone into the backroom, but then I barely caught a glimpse of them heading into another exam room when I put my head back out. And the nurse had closed the door tight behind them. Perfect.

I eased myself out of the exam room, hoping Ozzie wouldn't start barking. Not that it was too quiet in the building as it was. I found my way to the back room rapidly. Inside, several dogs were barking. Some started growling at me and a few cats were glaring. I ignored them as I turned my attention to the cabinets on the other side. I had looked up the name of the medications I would be looking for when I was back at home so as to not be completely dumb about what I needed to do this job.

"Oh," I whispered. That was easy. Ketamine was one of the first bottles my eyes glanced over...and there were several.

"Whatya doin'?" a voice sounded right over my shoulder.

"Ah!" I jumped, almost crashing into the cabinet.

Standing there was a kid not much older than me, but much taller and very thin. His clothes were overly baggy and he slouched with hands hanging on the sides of his scrub pants. He looked like he'd been sleeping. His eyes were red and glossy. "I, um..." I glanced nervously from him to the cabinet and down to Ozzie. "Ozzie- he..."

"Horse tranquilizer," he said, grabbing two of the bottles from the shelf and eyeing them. "That's some heavy duty stuff right there, let me tell you."

"Um..yeah, I..." what the fuck? He wasn't sleepy... I think he was high...or drunk...

The boy chuckled, offering the bottles to me, "Hey, I'm not here to judge. But yah know...I'm a little down on my feet right now..."

I reached out to take the bottles, shoving them into my pocket quickly while retrieving my wallet at the same time. I pulled out my last two twenties and handed them to him. He rubbed his nose, sniffing, and then took the cash.

"Now," he said, crumpling the bills up in his hand before reaching the same arm around me and gesturing me back out of the room. "The bathroom is, uh, that way, miss."

I smiled as I began to leave back for the hall, "Oh, of course."

I glanced back to see him close the cabinet door back and stuff the bills into his pants though it didn't look like they had pockets.. Couldn't decide if that was gross or not. I also wondered if I had over-paid or under-paid for the tranquilizers. Oh well. The important thing was was that I had them now. Back In the hallway, I heard the door the doctor had disappeared behind click open just as I passed it, causing me to hurry back to the examination station Ozzie and I had been left in.

"Well, who do we have here?"

I spun around from setting the dog on the table at the voice. The doctor stood in the door frame with a friendly smile much unlike that his nurse had had. Damn. I barely had made it into the room! He's been on my heels. Food thing I stepped up. Huh. Another lucky turn of events. Smooth, Frankie, smooth. Now if the next step would do so well... The final step...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 11/2/2015**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/4/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	21. Chapter 21: The 'Shooting'

I was beginning to feel that crime was much easier to go about in real life than they made it out to be in movies and books. Though I guess I could count beginners luck and the fact that not much time had passed so it waiting longer could prove my downfall. Not that I saw what I was doing as a bad thing... Wrong, technically by normal standards, but not bad in my eyes, thinking about it logically. Not really. Everyone dies sometime and I wasn't hurting anyone out of spite. It was simply a means to an end at this point. Like Freddy said, the important thing was that I was enjoying myself at long last. Didn't I deserve that?

Our school cafeteria generally gave us two options for meals. You could get whatever was scheduled on the menu that day or grab a tray with burger and fries. I knew there were certain standards for the food they provided as per health regulation and all that, but giving students the option of having a burger with fries every day did not seem healthy. Anyway, there were some days when the only trays available were those with the regular meal. I don't know what made them choose those days, but today was one of them. It would have been great if the meal was stew or something like that, but it was turkey, peas, and cake. The turkey was sliced and served with gravy poured over.

That would work. The lunch ladies usually began cooking around ten and the meals were served at twelve and twelve-thirty though, of course, that day they were all at noon. An hour before then, I had English class, one of my best courses. And my grades and attendance was superb so I had been exempt from the final exam. So just after eleven, I asked for a library pass and made my way to the cafeteria.

It had been just as easy to slip into the kitchen and empty the bottles of tranquilizer into the gravy pot, giving it a quick stir, as it had been to acquire the drug in the first place. The kitchen was a decent sized room, but very crowded due to all the equipment. It also stayed humid and a bit foggy from the heat of the ovens and poor ventilation. The cooks were all older women. The youngest of whom I think was in her mid-fifties. When I had gone to the side door and peered through its screen to see what was going on, I saw two women standing in front of an on oven, poking at something inside of it. They never looked my way so I watched until they were done, closed the oven door and walked away. I had been keeping an eye around me as well and nobody had come around.

I pulled the screen door open. It creaked a bit, but the him of the working kitchen seemed to cover the sound from traveling. I crept over to the stove top behind where the women had been standing to put eyes on a huge pot of gravy. One glance about then I dumped the tranquilizer in and began stirring. There was a noise and my head shot toward it as another worker came into the area. They weren't looking in my direction yet, so I ducked out quickly.

Everything seemed to have moved super slowly up until that point and then things slowed even more... The next half-hour was full of stress which was overcome by anticipation when the lunch bell finally rang and everyone walked to the cafeteria, grabbing their meals and sitting. I sat alone at the end of a table with a couple of obvious groups of friends and just studied the entirety of the crowd. Not everyone immediately dug in and some had brought their own food from home. I sat, heart beating fast, hoping that the medicine was strong enough. They were concentrated vials, meant to be diluted, so...

Every bite took minutes, every footstep was unrealistically loud. I was afraid they'd only get sick instead of sleeping, but then... _Plop._ The first head hit the table. Students began turning and I saw that actually several people were falling asleep. Gasps and whispered filled the room, followed by a couple of kids vomiting and more falling unconscious. Curious voices became frightened and one guy even warned others to stop eating the food. That's when I reached into the purse I had carried that day even though I hated carrying a bag in addition to the one I used for books. I pulled out a bottle of headache pills. Although what was inside was really the last bit of undiluted tranquilizer.

"Bottoms up," I smiled to myself, tossing the disgusting tasting medicine back, waiting to pass out. It would be the last time I was awake...

I entered dream world in an odd way, shifting violently among various dreams of my fellow students...kids whose faces I had seen before falling asleep. It was as if I was drifting over their individual thoughts. For some reason, I had thought we would all have one mass dream, but everyone was having their own, and I was somehow connected to every one of them.

"AHAHAHAHAHA!" Freddy's laughter sounded loudly and suddenly I stood in a clearing in front of him. He stood holding the heads of the two students that had been sitting nearest to me.

"Why'd you do it?" the boy's head spoke, part of his spine still connected to his sloppily decapitate head. It looked like someone had sawed through his neck, stopping at the bone and then just pulled it off the rest of the way.

"What did we ever do to you?" said the girl's. Her head was more cleanly decapitated at its base, but it was dripping dark blood.

I stared at the dead, animated faces momentarily, thinking about what Freddy had puppeteered them to say. But there was no guilt within me. Looking at them, I didn't care that they were dead. It wasn't personal. Just survival. And without thinking about it, I skipped forward and kicked the girl's head straight out of Freddy's grip. He began cackling as he turned to watch it soar away from us, then suddenly, the other had disappeared as well and he was upon me with claw in my face.

"You're in my world! What happens here is reality," he rasped, then growled, pushing me away from him, "Go earn your keep!"

When I fell back, it wasn't onto the ground or anything else. Instead, it was like falling off a cliff. I watched Freddy fade from sight and gradually, I was caught by invisible hands and replaced in a standing position in the middle of the lobby outside the school gym. I heard voices coming from inside the court...

"What's going on?" a girl screamed, followed by another "I don't know!" by a male student and random whisperings from whoever else was inside.

I walked to the glass doors to the side of the room, carefully pulling one open and creeping inside. It was dim, but everything was still seen easily enough. There was a group of about twenty kids, I'd say. I had never been good at doing approximate head counts. They were mostly all staying near the opposite end of the court, toward the entrances to the locker rooms and showers. They were all standing around awkwardly. A few girls were hugging each other as well as the one known gay couple at the school. A few were pacing and most were staying silent. They must not have decided on a course of action... None of them seemed to have noticed me so I took the time to contemplate my own course.

It was a dream... That meant I could influence it. Shoot up the school, huh? Hm... I looked down to my hand, curling and uncurling it's fingers in front of me in thought. I did my best to recall the look and feel of the rifle my dad had taught me how to use when I was younger. It wasn't automatic and I wasn't a good shot. I don't think I could change my aim even in the dream world, but maybe my mind could change the gun to fire rapidly if I could get the damn thing to... There it was. The rifle appeared, barrel in my outstretched hand and butt resting against my shoulder. It was heavy like I had remembered it and it was made out of both wood and metal. It pissed me off that I couldn't think of the name though...not that it mattered really. I shifted the weapon into a position where the butt was pressed against my shoulder with one hand holding the barrel above the trigger an my right grasping onto the that. I took a deep breath and began sauntering over to the other students.

"What's that?" a girl squeaked as my form started to show.

The rest of them turned necks and spun bodies to where she was looking as well. It didn't register at first who I was or what I was approaching with though I didn't expect any of them to actually recognize me. At least not in the knowing my name kind of way. Some guys and a couple of girls took a few steps in my direction and stopped, but the one guy that I had already picked out as the most dominant of the group continued walking toward me until he saw the rifle aimed at him. Then, he threw up his hands and pedaled two paces back as the others realized also and a few gasps, even a scream echoed in the gym.

"Woah, hold on there," he spoke in a surprisingly strong voice given his predicament. "No need in that. We don't want any trouble."

"Then we understand each other," I smirked, my own confidence was surprising. "Because I don't either."

And just like that, I shot him. Straight in the chest with three quick rounds. I guess I had been able to make it an auto. Ha! Awesome. The boy thudded to the ground, sending everyone around him into a panic. I could see on their faces that they wanted to run, but there was nowhere for them to escape to except for to run past me which they were obviously too terrified to try. Instead they huddled close to each other, almost simultaneously backing away from me. It was refreshing to see them shy away from me yet unable to flee. I was in control. For once, in my life, I was the one choosing what I wanted to do- who I wanted to be. And they were the ones that had to obey me.

I stepped forward, keeping my weapon aimed at the group as I came upon the body on the floor. Glancing down, my lips pursed in thought. I had honestly expected it to be more difficult to kill someone in a dream. Not sure why. Maybe just because dreams were so distorted compared to reality as a rule. I felt that the mind when faced with sudden unexpected death, typically fought the idea whether the body could or not. Dreams being controlled by the mind...well, you see what I'm getting at. Nonetheless, he was motionless, blood still bubbling from his chest and pooling beneath it. I probably should move forward and get the others before anyone else realized they were in this world and tried to manipulate it themselves...but I couldn't help from pausing long enough to place my foot on my first victim's chest and press into the red to see it creep up around my shoe and stain it.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" another boy called.

Great, I thought, a noble type. I took no time in removing my attention from the fallen kid and shooting again at this second guy. I think I hit him twice before I began swerving the barrel of my gun, doing my best to keep it in position straight along my shoulder as I fired into the crowd. Three, four, six, eight more students fell. Some not fatally injured at first so I kept approaching them and firing freely. In my brain, my weapon had endless ammo like an cheat in a video game. Experienced dreamer as I was, I knew that these things could still be touch so I only hoped that my vision of the gun held true to their nightmare's reality. As I neared, I noticed that some of the kids had fled into the locker rooms while a couple other, more brave, students, actually ran past me on either side.

My first instinct was to re-position and shoot the ones running behind me, but logic stepped in and told me that I'd be less likely to hit them, use more ammo, and in the meantime, focusing on them could give the others enough rope to start escaping as well. No, it was best to stay on the group. So I did. I easily dropped six more kids, making me realize that my earlier guess of twenty total had been wrong...though not by far. When all of them in front of me were on the ground, not moving, I twisted my torso to look from where I'd come. The three that had run along side me were not in sight. I sighed and shifted the rifle, allowing my stiff shoulders and arms to shake a moment before taking a new breath and moving in on the locker room.

Once inside, I was met with the split in the short hall that divided the sexes. Hm. I saw four people go in, but I didn't see what they looked like. Not that that would really help. Looks were deceiving and I doubt if they were too concerned with following these societal rules at the time. I stopped there and put my eyes to the floor as I tried to listen beyond. I could hear water dripping...other than that, I was lost. I started to walk into the men's division, but on last thought, went into the women's instead. Initially, I saw nothing. There was no movement and nothing seemed disturbed. As I neared the end of the line of lockers and showers, I figured I had guessed wrongly, but with every pace, my footsteps were making a squishing sound that apparently alerted the escapees to me and I heard a soft sob. The sound stopped mid-way through it as if someone had attempted to silence it.

I smirked and turned around the last shower wall. Three girls knelt there behind the partition. All had been crying...one still was. "Please!" the one holding her weeping friend tried, "Please don-"

 _Bang._

 _Bang._

 _Bang._

All three were dead in an instant, their blood draining with the rest of the water. However, I didn't have time to celebrate yet. Something hard hit me across the back of my head. Dream strength or not- it hurt, but didn't do me in. I spun around to see the gay couple from before. Both were holding baseball bats, though it seemed only one had attacked me and he was readying for another swing by the time I was facing him. His expression was one full of hate; his partner's was one of fear. I jumped back to dodge the second blow as I took proper hold of my gun again, nearly tripping over the bodies in the shower in the process. Five more poorly aimed shots and the two young lovers were dead as well.

Baseball bats. What a cute coincidence. I lowered the rifle, staring at the two boys a moment, then back at the girls before heading out. The gym was still empty except for the pile of corpses on that side of the court. I took a casual stroll around them, stepping over and beside their bodies and taking in each face. There would be so much heartbreak over this...no doubt. So many young lives lost by the loner yet unsuspected psychopath. Their families would be devastated. Hm. Maybe not the gay ones. I heard that their parents greatly disapproved the relationship. One pair even forbid it, but they didn't really have the option to keep him out of this school. Wonder if they'd love him now?

I had remained in a state of determined focus...an almost calm during the actual killing. However, I now had a heart leaping in my chest and found my face and palms sweating, my breathing almost labored. Was this it? Did I need to look for the others? I was upset with what I had done...not until...I waited and waited...and...still heard nothing.

"Freddy?" I finally called, scanning the room. I made my way out into the lobby, then into the parking lot beyond. "Freddy?" All I heard was the wind howling...birds in the distance cawing...Where was he? Had I done something wrong? Why wasn't he answering? I kept expecting to hear his cackle...to see him pop up in some random location as I strolled and scare me, but nothing... Oh god...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 4/13/2016**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/5/2017**

 **AK47. Jesus Christ, it was an AK47! That's the gun my dad gave me when I was young though I was taught to shoot on a P38 and a 9mm. I never shot the AK until I was a teenager. It was so hard for me not to use the actual name of the rifle, but Francine's character called for her not to remember or know too much about guns! XD  
**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22: Will Death Come

I started running through the lot to get back to the main school building. Everything looked so real...was set up to a tee of the actual thing and it had my mind doubting what the fuck was going on. That, in addition to everything that had happened...all from that first time I saw Freddy. Where the fuck was he? I had never had a panic attack or severe emotional breakdown, but I felt to be on the brink of one or the other of both.

"Hello?" my voice sounded loudly in the empty hallway as I entered.

I paused just inside the doors, waiting to see if I could hear anything at all. Some hint of Freddy. The clinking metal of his glove, the shift in scenery to the boiler room, his laugh...but there was absolutely nothing. No sign of him nor anybody nor anything. Just the empty school. I had long since abandoned my weapon, focusing solely on finding my friend... The only person I had... Especially now. Nobody else would ever want me... They'd never understand me anyway. Not would anyone else ever embrace even the weirdest, darkest parts of me.

My heart had stopped beating so heavily from panic and now I was left with only chest heaving, mouth panting. I shook my head. No, he wouldn't... He couldn't... I couldn't be all alone... Not again... Not like this... Shaking my head once more, I pressed through the aches in my legs and the soreness in my lungs and began ducking into room after room after room until I had journeyed through the entire building, leaving a trail of open doors and hollow classrooms behind. Nothing. No one. And I was exhausted. Physically, mentally... This was enough. I gave up.

I sunk to the floor just outside my favorite class, history. The professor had always been so kind. He had a passion for teaching that was lost on the likes of these ungrateful teenagers. All of them...so ungrateful. Taking the things they had for granted. Parents who loved them, who let them express themselves, be themselves, be kids... The smallest things like being able to date, to fall in love... Even just hanging out with friends, go to a party... Speak to their mother without being afraid you'd forget to say ma'am and be hit or otherwise punished... Just little things...

So many little things...

Added up to something terrible...

My life had eaten me alive...

And I wasn't even an adult... Now, my life was over... I was alone. There was nobody. No chance of me ever finding someone. Not after... I had destroyed what few chances I had had of ever having a decent or even passable life after what I'd done today.

My face furrowed and my eyes were wet even before I began crying, sobbing, weeping... My legs had been straight on the floor in front of me, but in my despair, I tried to lift them to clutch my knees against my chest... Only to be met with the sound of clinking metal. My mind jumped to the thought of Freddy, thinking it was his glove I heard, but a weight on my lap cleared my brain of it. There, laying on my thighs... Was the assault rifle again.

Guess it was my turn now...

Shaky hands took hold of the gun. It was a pretty large weapon so turning it on myself wasn't quite as simple as it seemed. I managed to rotate it though, taking a few choking breaths as I put the tip of the barrel into my mouth, pushing it as far back as I could and pointing it up at my skull. Then I worked on keeping a grip on the gun while positioning it in my lap and against the floor. My finger found the trigger...

Now the moment I both feared and longed for was here...I was not afraid to die or of the pain. I only hoped it didn't pass too quickly...I wanted to feel pain...physical pain that I allowed...that I could control and keep from hurting me deeply like the rest...

One...

Last...

Time.

 _Click._

It didn't fire. I tightened my mouth around the barrel and my tongue was met with something sharp. My eyes shot open and I looked down the rifle...except it wasn't there. In my mouth instead was...Freddy's bladed pointer finger. His glove lay disembodied in my lap. I separated my lips from the knife, simultaneously reaching a hand to try to pick the weapon up, only to be met with the rest of Freddy's body appearing directly atop me. I squeaked, causing my tongue to once more be pressed against the blade in my mouth, as his face came to light just in front of me.

"Ahaaah. Heheheh," he chuckled with a smirk. "Not quite rid of me," his knee pressed hard between my thighs, pressing up into me.

I squirmed. That bastard. He did it on purpose, didn't he? I wanted so much to be angry at him for toying with me in such a cruel way, but I couldn't. It was who he was and I was far too happy to see him. I needed to quit doubting so much... Every time things took a negative turn, I was afraid about everything. I ran back to questioning reality and each time, I was proven the same things were real. I wasn't insane. I was unable to refrain from smiling, entirely relieved that he was there. My lips curled around the blade in my mouth and he stuck the blade in further, scratching into the back of my throat.

"You did well, little girl," he grinned, "Now let Daddy spoil you."

His other hand grabbed onto my hair, pulling it to the side as he let the knife fall out of my mouth. Standing, he began dragging me down the hallway by my head. My hands darted up to take hold of his. The pain in my head felt like my scalp would be ripped off. I groaned as he continued to pull, but we only made it several feet before I instinctively started kicking my legs to gain power over myself again. When I did, he abruptly stopped, dropping my hair and I barely managed to catch myself and keep it from hitting the floor. I took in heavy breaths and flung my locks out of my face.

We were in the boiler room, Freddy standing before me, slowly lifting his hands into the air as if commanding ghosts around him to emerge. And they did. The bloodied forms of every kid I had just slain were suddenly all around me. I gazed around at all of them. Each face held a different expression of terror or sadness. I grinned as I picked myself from the ground, standing and stepping forward into the crowd. Then, one final person appeared and walked right up to me. He stared me coldly in the eyes.

"Go home, Frankie," Phil growled at me.

I stared back, "I am home."

"Go home, Frankie!" he yelled, his head starting to bleed, bruises appearing everywhere I had hit him before he died.

And in my hands came his baseball bat which I immediately used to slug him to the ground. The phantom fell onto his back, motionless. I expected the body to vanish, but as I gazed upon it, blood began to pool... On his groin. It soaked his pants in a dark red. I went forward, placing my foot directly upon his crotch and putting all of my weight on it as I glared up at Freddy.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, glancing around at the other ghosts. "Guilting me won't do a goddamn thing...because I don't feel guilty."

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Freddy's cackle dispersed the others, including the one beneath me. "That's my girl!" he shook his curled glace and me then instantly was in front of me again, left arm curled around my waist and pulling me close. "Although..." he whispered, clicking blades in my face as the hand behind me reached up and grabbed my hair again; a slight moan escaped my then open jaw. "If you're going to serve me... You'll need to know when to shut your mouth!"

His bladed fingers slid between my barely parted lips, forcing my mouth open further as he pressed the knife down hard onto my tongue, cutting into it, causing me to wince and whine. I began fighting against his grip. My hands, still free, grabbed hold of his dirty sweater, pulling at his chest. I watched him smile as he continued to slice into my tongue, yanking my head back by my hair. That forceful motion that jerked my head, also jerked his blades through the final bit of my tongue, tearing it in two, making my throat fill with blood. Just as I started to choke on the metallic plasma, he let go of me, removing blades from my mouth as he pushed me back onto the ground.

I spat the blood onto the floor, coughing as my tongue continued to bleed. I yelped, but the movement only made the burning wound sting that much more so I started softly whining until I became used to the feeling and over the initial shock. When I quieted, I could hear Freddy laughing. I looked up at him just as he came closer to me. Throwing his empty hand in the air at me, a white cloth appeared in my mouth, filling it and gagging me. I could feel my blood start soaking it and then gradually stopping. Before I could respond other than to put eyes back on him, he was inches from me, taking his belt off...

I leaned back to sit on my knees with legs bent under me and kept observing, catching my breath through my nose. His eyes were gazing down on me, his face was straight as he finished removing the leather strap. He held it before him, folding it, and then taking hold of both ends to furl it and making a cracking sound. I blinked but stayed still. His raspy voice purred through barred teeth as he dropped one hand from the belt. My eyes widened and my breath caught when his arm reared back and soon my cheek was met with an intense _smack_ as he hit me with the thick leather.

My head twisted to the side and I moaned through my gag. I hadn't a moment to look back before he struck me again in the same spot and then again and again, hardly allowing any time for recovery from the previous blow. It felt as if my skin was melting with each strike and the belt was peeling my skin. The teeth underneath the skin there began to feel sore and my head was shaking on the inside. I began falling to my side, my legs uncurling from beneath me and hands reaching up to my face, only to receive the same burning hit. Then the attack stopped. My eyes peered through my still raised hands. Freddy stood over me, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.

My chest was heaving. It was hard to keep my breath with only being able to breathe through my nose. I lowered my hands, suddenly feeling embarrassed that I had raised them at all. I could take this. This wasn't near unbearable. And the pain was already fading. I sat up again, hands on floor and grinned as best I could at him, being sure to move my eyes in a matching manner to make sure he saw the gesture. He smiled as well and uncrossed his arms, letting the belt fall back to its full length. He stepped forward and placed the buckle on the rag in my mouth. Grabbing the other end of the belt, he situated it around my head, pulling it tight through the loop of the buckle and then tying it off. The leather was surely making an indent in my flesh if not cutting it...

When he leaned back enough that I could see our surroundings, we were in some sort of chamber. A dingy room that seemed to still be part of the boiler room we'd been in before. There was a large steel oven, it looked like, on one side and an unclothed mattress in the middle. He stepped away from me, pointing a blade my way and curling it. I knew the signal and immediately obeyed by standing and walking closer. When I was beside him, he flung me down onto the mattress. I made a small sound, rolling over onto my back and waiting.

He jumped on top of me, forcing my legs apart with his. Taking his claw, he quickly slashed through my clothes. I had made a point of wearing a light T-shirt and short skirt that day. Well, as short as I had... With a wave of his hands, he commanded the torn fabric away from my body, leaving me bare before him. It was the first time I had actually been completely naked around anyone, but somehow I wasn't self-conscious at all. I wasn't nervous, but...anticipated what he would do next.

Freddy slowly eyed my naked body up and down. I hoped that I looked good to him... He laid his glove on my stomach, lightly scratching my skin at first. The touch was teasing and my back arched, wanting more. He lifted again and obliged by carefully digging the tips of those knives into my my abdomen and then tearing slowly up to my chest, retrieving the claws once they reached my collarbone. My hands were once more grabbing at the man on top of me, but as soon as his own hands were done, he pinned me down by my wrists and lowered himself further into me.

I stared into his eyes, the same soft chaotic mess that they always were. The closer he got to me, the more my legs parted and I found myself wrapping them around his waist. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, his clothes rubbing against the fresh wounds on my front and causing them to burn. I moaned loudly even with the gag still in place; my back arched again. Suddenly, I felt that he was bare too. But only below. Otherwise, he remained dressed. He rubbed himself against me with a soft chuckle. Then he reached down, positioning himself so that his tip was between my lower lips. He smirked at me and growled lowly before jolting his hips so he was within me. In one thrust...

And it didn't feel the same as Phil had. It was much...more. Everything was so tight, it was like my walls expanded greater than what was normal. He had to be huge! He barred his teeth as he began pulling out, hitting inside me just as hard as the first time and he did this over and over. With each movement, I felt tighter, wetter... I didn't even think it was possible. I started writhing, gently pulling against my restrained positions as he kept going and going. My breathing was picking up and I was sweating...moaning...aching...

His motions became faster and I started to feel the same sensation as before...but stronger. I was so close to orgasm. My eyes rolled back and I put thoughts on my stomach...the cuts being agitated with his body rubbing against mine. I recalled the burning of my face as he struck it with the belt and the taste of blood, almost choking on it after he split my tongue... It was all too much. Just as my eyes opened to see him again, I came. My inside exploded and my vision blurred, blacking out momentarily from pleasure. He must have felt it because he immediately pulled out, the sudden separation physically painful to my over-sensitized clit and walls.

Watching him, I moaned loudly, gasping behind the gag. He lifted his body from me, hands let go of my wrists and he used them to push my legs back down for him to put his own over, inching up nearer to my face. I glanced down, seeing that he was, in fact, huge and he was still hard. I heard him chuckle and my gaze was on his face once more. He reached down and untied the belt, removing the bloody gag from my mouth.

I inhaled sharply; my body desperate to catch more air. He allowed me to take a few deep breaths before ordering me, "Suck on your tongue."

I didn't understand the command, but did what he said nonetheless. The burning pain didn't bother me. It did, however, feel weird to basically have two tongues. Then, the pieces started bleeding again. I stopped at the sudden sensation. That must have been what he wanted. I opened my mouth, letting a few drips of blood escape. He grinned, made one last movement toward me and took hold of himself. He then forced his dick into my mouth and started the same thrusting motion as before.

He easily filled me there, too, even hitting the back of my throat which did more to make me feel gagged than the rag had. He grabbed the top of my head and eased my lips back and forth over him. My eyes darted in between his face and his groin. Crimson was pushing out of my mouth, running over my lips and down the rest of him. I was just beginning to get over the sublime numbness of orgasm as he started forcing harder and faster into my mouth, grazing and burning my tongue. The weight of him sitting on my chest and the lack of regular air supply during it all was making it extremely difficult to breathe and I thought I would pass out.

However, he finally moaned himself, slowing his movement. With all the blood and saliva, I barely felt his cum shoot into my throat. He paused there, as if regaining himself before slowly pulling out and inching back away from me, eyes on mine the entire time.

"Good girl," he purred as he sat between my legs, his own bent beneath him.

I smiled, swallowing all the fluid in my mouth. I stayed silent as I continued to gain control of my lungs. I tried to move my legs...to shift my hips into a more comfortable position, but a claw bearing down on my crotch stopped me. I looked back up at Freddy, who was smirking deviously. He trailed his blades down onto my mound, poking them between my lips. I jumped at the prick against the sensitive area, but did my best to remain motionless. He began laughing very lowly as he pushed the blades into the skin. I squeaked, fighting back against my instinct to fight as I felt myself start bleeding.

I was panting again and squealing, but the man didn't relent. Instead, he pushed more. I could feel the blades sliding inside of me, tearing into my walls. The pain was excruciating. It was so much more than I had ever experienced and I couldn't remain still. I began screaming, crying, flailing arms and legs in an attempt to sit up and resist... It was no use. I only fell back onto the mattress, writhing and squealing. I stared down just as his claw pierced through my stomach from the inside. Blood spewed, splashing his face and mine and I could hear, could see him cackling maniacally. But slowly, my arms fell. My legs fell. My squeals became quiet cries then fell completely silent. My lungs stopped filling and my whole body fell cold, then numb...paralyzed. The last thing to leave was my vision. Right after everything turned black, I heard one last thing.

"And now you're mine forever."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Chapter originally written 4/13/2016**  
 **Chapter rewritten 11/6/2017**

 **If you enjoy this story, please check out my other Nightmare on Elm Street fanfictions,** **my** **fanfictions from other fandoms, or my original novels and short stories! Thanks for reading!**


	23. Epilogue: A Look Beyond

I sat there in my old living room during my own wake. Everyone there was crying. Even though only maybe half of them knew even of me but none of them knew who I was. Ozzie was the only one that didn't pretend to be sad for someone he didn't know. Animals understood these things. Death was natural. Not something to get worked up over.

My mom sat across from me, hugging the small dog tightly. I wondered how different her life would be without me. I liked to think it would be better. She would have to get out there again...find a boyfriend...hopefully find love. But I don't think that anything she nor anyone else could find could come close to being as special as the bond Freddy and I shared.

It had been mostly quiet on our end of things since my death. Mostly, Freddy had rested and I had been taking in the aftermath of everything.

It didn't take long for it to be put together that I had most likely been the one to steal the Ketamine and drug the school. Naturally, the daughter of the vet was the first suspect, but when that turned up dry, even though she had actually been one of the ones to make it through the massacre, attention was turned to me for having been at the vet the day the tranqilizer had gone missing and being at the school that day.

I was surprised at first that no attention had gone to the boy that sold me the tranquilizer, but then I found out that he had skipped town that same day and overdosed on meth in a nearby hotel.

Of course everyone wondered why I did it, but moreover they hated me and wished I had not taken the lives of their children.

I smiled before standing to leave.

"It's time to go to work," Freddy's voice was in my head.

I took one more glance at my mother and wondered if I would keep an eye on her until she died too...or if this small remnant of attachment would soon be gone as well.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE::** **I hope you liked this story! I plan to do more like this in the future, so please give me a follow and check out my other stories.**


	24. Author's Message

I just finished rewriting the story and I think it has come out much better this time. I'm posting this 'new chapter' so that those with it saved/followed will get the update that it is finished. I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think!


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